CATS PAW 
 
 William Hamilton Osborne
 
 E LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY Of CAUFQBMLA 
 LOS
 
 THE CATSPAW
 
 Roxane
 
 THE CATSPAW 
 
 By 
 
 WILLIAM HAMILTON OSBORNE 
 
 Author of 
 "The Red Mouse," "The Running Fight," Etc. 
 
 With Illustrations by 
 F. GRAHAM COOTES 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 
 1911 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY 
 
 WILLIAM HAMILTON OSBORNE 
 Published, March, 1911
 
 TO 
 
 K. H. O. 
 
 2137530
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I ROXANE ENTERS TOWN .... i 
 
 II A WELCOME INTRUDER . . . . 13 
 
 III JULES GASPARD FIGURES MORE OR LESS 24 
 
 IV MR. BONWIT UNDER BONDS ... 39 
 V DUPES 52 
 
 VI THE SLICK MR. ST. JOHN . . .71 
 
 VII THE RICHEST GIRL IN TOWN . . 87 
 
 VIII A PECULIAR COMBINATION . . . 102 
 
 IX THE ADVANTAGES OF PLAYING POKER 120 
 
 X SHADOWED . . . . . . 137 
 
 XI INSIDE INFORMATION . . . .146 
 
 XII THE KEYBOARD CIPHER .... 162 
 
 XIII MRS. SHACKLETON'S MATCHED PEARL 
 
 NECKLACE . . . . . . 190 
 
 XIV A PURSUIT IN PRIVATE . . . .213 
 XV THE LEOPARD'S SPOTS .... 232 
 
 XVI A DINNER EXTRAORDINARY . . .255 
 
 XVII ROXANE TURNS INFORMER .' . . 273 
 
 XVIII THE DISCLOSURE . . . . . 295 
 
 XIX WHAT FOLLOWED . . . . .315 
 
 XX WHAT'S IN A NAME? . . . 321
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 ROXANE Frontispiece 
 
 FACING 
 PAGE 
 
 SHE MOTIONED TO HIM TO SIT DOWN BESIDE 
 HER 20 
 
 KlTTREDGE ST. JOHN 1 30 
 
 STEPPING QUICKLY TO THE WALL, SHE TURNED 
 A BUTTON 248
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 KOXANE ENTERS TOWN 
 
 IT would be absurd to say though some did 
 that it never could have happened anywhere else; 
 nor was it a question of keeping eyes and ears 
 open; it was nothing more nor less than a pecu- 
 liarly obstinate refusal, at least on the part of 
 her admirers, to see the woman as she really was. 
 Had her antecedent existence not been shrouded in 
 mystery, then, of course, it is probable. . . . 
 But for the better understanding of the remarkable 
 career of Roxane Bellairs for as such the good 
 
 people of M will ever remember her it is 
 
 necessary to begin at the beginning, or, to be more 
 exact, with her advent upon the arena of events 
 on the 1 3th of May, 190 . 
 
 In connection with her arrival at the station two 
 features, however trivial, are perhaps worthy of 
 notice : first, that the lady's trunks and boxes both 
 in quality and quantity shattered all the local 
 traditions in the individual-luggage class; second, 
 and largely consequent upon the first, that the
 
 2 THE CATSPAW 
 
 appearance of the lady herself, despite the sim- 
 plicity of her costume, created a stir among the 
 people on the platform that fell but little short 
 of being a sensation. As for the station-master, 
 that individual underwent, obviously, a strenuous 
 quarter of an hour; but when the last leather re- 
 ceptacle had been dragged from the car and deftly 
 landed on the very top of the huge pile of her 
 belongings, he faced about, and in joyful contem- 
 plation of the battle that was to come, ejaculated: 
 " She's got 'em all beat ! Mrs. Tony, take it 
 straight from me, won't be one-two-three with 
 this one ! " And here, parenthetically, it should be 
 added, that, although social distinctions might 
 seem to be somewhat out of his line, he knew who 
 was who, did Bowles, the station-master. 
 
 But apparently oblivious to the attention she 
 was attracting, and showing no evidence whatever 
 of that uncertainty of purpose, so noticeable in 
 strangers, this quiet-looking young woman stood 
 for a moment or two upon the platform, giving 
 Bowles explicit directions. Then, hailing a cab 
 and declining with rare discrimination the cabby's 
 earnest entreaties that she should put up at the 
 Jermyn, the newest and most pretentious hos-
 
 ROXANE ENTERS TOWN 3 
 
 telry, she directed him to jog along slowly to- 
 wards the centre of the town until told to stop 
 an order that he received when opposite the ex- 
 clusive Indian Queen, the town's oldest and most 
 representative family hotel. 
 
 Now, whether what followed was part of a 
 carefully concocted plan or that luck was with her 
 to an extraordinary extent, it was certain that no 
 sooner had her cab come to a standstill before 
 the chosen inn than there dashed about the cor- 
 ner a well-turned-out coach, whose guard an- 
 nounced the termination of the journey with a 
 shrill and not unmusical blow of a trumpet, and 
 whose driver despite the fact that the skittish 
 and high-strung bays seemed, when rounding the 
 corner, to be all up in the air at once managed 
 his four so skilfully that they were perfectly in 
 hand before he pulled them up at the curb, 
 his off-leader, tame as a kitten, the moment 
 he was brought to a standstill, proceeding 
 at once to rub noses with the worn and jaded 
 equine that belonged to the stranger's convey- 
 ance. 
 
 On the point of alighting, one small gloved hand 
 resting on the window-sill, the woman's intention
 
 4 THE CATSPAW 
 
 was, apparently, stayed by the sudden advent of 
 the tally-ho; and, sinking quietly back into a cor- 
 ner of her cab, she contented herself with a lan- 
 guid but comprehensive survey of the passengers 
 all of them, as she was soon to learn, prominent 
 in the town's most fashionable, smartest (or 
 whatever the latest word is) set who were de- 
 scending one by one to the sidewalk, where they 
 stood laughing and chatting. Presently she 
 slightly shifted her position and let her gaze pass 
 to the off-leader, from him to his fellow, thence 
 to the wheeler, and from thence along the lines 
 to the whip. It travelled no farther. 
 
 For, almost at the same instant, the blond- 
 bearded individual on the box, raising his head, 
 focused his attention on the cab; and, unob- 
 served by any of his party, the eyes of the man 
 and the woman met in a glance that was clearly 
 one of mutual admiration, even if he could not 
 keep a semi-amused expression from showing on 
 his face. As for the woman, she, evidently, was 
 satisfied with the message that she had read; and, 
 quickly leaving the cab and crossing the broad 
 sidewalk to the hotel entrance the cabby trail- 
 ing on behind with her hand-bag, she stepped up
 
 ROXANE ENTERS TOWN 5 
 
 to the desk where, in a firm, bold hand, she wrote 
 her name upon the register. Before, however, the 
 clerk could follow this action with the customary 
 civilities, she leaned toward him and inquired in 
 a low voice, which showed just a trace of foreign 
 accent : 
 
 " The gentleman who drove the coach what is 
 his name, please? " 
 
 At that moment the coaching-party held the 
 clerk's attention to the exclusion of all others; 
 but when they had passed on to the palm-room, he 
 turned to the new arrival and said: 
 
 " I beg pardon, madam, that's Mr. Kittredge 
 St. John." 
 
 " Oh ! " fell from the woman's lips. " I was 
 merely curious. ..." 
 
 The clerk favoured her with a smile. It was 
 not the first time that this question had been 
 put to him by fair admirers of the handsome 
 driver of the coach. And now, beckoning to a 
 hall-boy, to whom the cabby delivered the hand- 
 bag, he told him to take the lady to the Hobart 
 suite, so called from the time that it had been 
 occupied by New Jersey's favourite son, add- 
 ing :
 
 6 THE CATSPAW 
 
 "They're the finest rooms in the house, 
 madam; we've held them since your wire." 
 
 Acknowledging his courtesy with a slight in- 
 clination of the head, the lady started to follow 
 the boy, suddenly halted, hesitated a moment, and 
 finally retraced her steps. 
 
 " I've decided to lunch before going up," she 
 said. "The dining-room, please. ..." 
 
 She was informed that, besides the general 
 dining-room, there was the grill- or palm-room; 
 she chose the latter; in fact, said she preferred it. 
 When she entered the low-studded, festive-looking 
 room, St. John and his party were already seated 
 and were the objects of well-bred curiosity. At 
 a glance, however, she espied a lone table in a 
 far corner; quickly she appropriated it, for it 
 suited well her purpose to feast her eyes upon the 
 handsome, well-remembered face of the young man 
 who sat at the head of a long table surrounded by 
 his friends a purpose that no one there sus- 
 pected, save, perhaps, the man himself. 
 
 And, indeed, what with his light, curly hair, his 
 fun-loving eyes, a face tanned by the wind and sun, 
 blond moustache and beard, and well-cut clothes 
 fitting a superb figure, this Kittredge St. John was
 
 ROXANE ENTERS TOWN 7 
 
 a very promising-looking young man, notwith- 
 standing the fact that a further acquaintance with 
 him is likely to reveal certain qualities that, how- 
 ever admirable for his designs, are not generally 
 attributed to a man of fashion. But no matter 
 how little deserving of approval was his life, in 
 appearance, at least, he was everything that a 
 gentleman should be; while his personality was 
 precisely the kind that charms and is sought after 
 by society society as represented by the young 
 men-about-town and debutantes. In short, he 
 seemed a most desirable person to know. 
 
 It was several moments, therefore, before the 
 lady, lunching by herself, found time to take stock 
 of the members of his party. The men, she per- 
 ceived, were pretty much of a type; the women 
 looked smart and were mostly of the sort that 
 men call amusing. There was one tall, slender 
 girl, however, of a little different stamp, who sat 
 on St. John's right; and the stranger noted not 
 without a shade of anxiety crossing her face that 
 he, evidently, had singled her out as being more 
 worthy of his solicitude than the rest of his guests; 
 in fact, the assiduity and perseverance of his at- 
 tentions to his neighbour were so marked as the
 
 8 THE CATSPAW 
 
 meal proceeded that the woman's face became a 
 trifle hard. But presently, perhaps as a result of 
 scanning the girl narrowly, her face broke into 
 a smile of satisfaction, and summoning her waiter 
 she put to him, under pretence of giving an order, 
 some pertinent inquiries, the conversation being 
 carried on in French. 
 
 All this time the men of St. John's party were 
 not unmindful, needless to say, of the fact that 
 this remarkably attractive and unattended young 
 woman was sitting at a small nearby table. Not 
 a moment went by without one of them covertly 
 casting an approving glance in her direction, 
 though, singularly enough, St. John failed to give 
 any sign of being aware of her presence there. 
 Now her meal was finished; but before leaving she 
 gave a hasty, critical look at her soft, woollen 
 gown of the shade known as wistaria a colour 
 that she always affected either in the gown itself 
 or the details of it and, after reassuring herself 
 that it fitted the lines of her figure so perfectly 
 that every woman present could not help being 
 envious, she rose and undulated slowly past St. 
 John's pleasure-seeking, animated-looking guests. 
 And that her departure was well timed, were she
 
 ROXANE ENTERS TOWN 9 
 
 desirous of attracting further attention, was evi- 
 denced by the exclamations which fell from every 
 lip the moment she passed out of the room, even 
 the rather indifferent Miss Paget turning to her 
 nearest neighbour with : 
 
 " Pretty, isn't she ! I wonder who can she be ? " 
 
 But as everybody present was asking the same 
 question, no answer was forthcoming; and in con- 
 sequence the pompously amiable Mr. Bonwit, of 
 the Manufacturers' National, forgot his dignity so 
 far as to tiptoe from the table into the corridor 
 for a last fleeting glance of the fair stranger, while 
 even Mrs. Tony Shackleton was so exercised that 
 she despatched Jerome Olyphant to look her up- 
 on the hotel register. $\ 
 
 " Hold on, Jerry, I'll go with you ! " sang out 
 Major Holbrook from his side of the table. 
 "Two heads, you know ..." 
 
 " In a multitude of counsellors there is much 
 wisdom," piped up little Varnum, rising from his 
 place on the other side of Dorothy Paget; and 
 together the three renegades turned their backs 
 upon the women they knew to find out all they 
 could about the woman they did not know. 
 
 Their return was almost boisterous.
 
 io THE CATSPAW 
 
 " She's gone ! " they announced in chorus, and 
 fell into their chairs. 
 
 "Gone?" asked St. John, half-rising, and for 
 the first time showing any interest. 
 
 "... gone where nobody can see her," 
 laughed the Major. " She's got the Hobart suite 
 on the second floor." 
 
 " And her name," chirped in little Varnum, " is 
 Mrs. Bellairs I took it down." 
 
 " From Quebec," added Olyphant. 
 
 Whereupon Mrs. Tony Shackleton permitted 
 herself a little time for reflection. The invasion 
 of a stranger was always a matter of moment. 
 But however fine an example the lady had just 
 given of a sweet and unobtrusive manner, Mrs. 
 Tony felt it incumbent upon her to divine whether 
 or not it was merely a mask to cover a wickedness 
 too subtle for mere man to understand. Curiously 
 enough, however, any inclination she may have 
 had to announce her conviction that the lady had 
 a past, was lost in an admiration that was born 
 of her own secret hope of a future, and there 
 was almost a note of envy in the voice that 
 declared : 
 
 11 At any rate, she's a thoroughbred 1 " Which
 
 ROXANE ENTERS TOWN n 
 
 remark met with a storm of approval from the 
 male members of St. John's party, Mr. Bonwit 
 smiting the table with his pudgy hand until the 
 glasses rang as he cried out: 
 
 " Capital ! Good for you, Mrs. Tony ! " And, 
 turning to his neighbour, he added : " Miss Paget, 
 how about you ? What do you think . . . ? " 
 
 For some reason, known only to herself, Miss 
 Paget answered the question with a question: 
 
 "What's Mr. St. John's opinion of her?" 
 
 St. John started out of a reverie. 
 
 "Let me see her name?" that gentleman be- 
 gan, a little absently. "That slip of paper, 
 Archie, and I'll tell you ..." 
 
 Although St. John had succeeded well in not 
 being observed, all through the meal he had 
 watched the person now being discussed. He 
 noted how, at first, no one could approach her 
 table without her face showing a startled look; 
 how she repeatedly glanced toward the entrance; 
 that she did not wholly recover her composure 
 until some time had passed. But that Mrs. 
 Shackleton, with her somewhat limited knowledge 
 of the world, should venture to pass any kind of 
 judgment on the stranger, struck him as having
 
 12 THE CATSPAW 
 
 its amusing side. Nevertheless, after toying care- 
 lessly with the card, he answered : ; 
 
 " I agree with Mrs. Tony." And then added 
 significantly: " She's a thoroughbred, all right! " 
 
 Mrs. Tony thought she detected a note of dis- 
 paragement in his tone. 
 
 " But what on earth could a woman of that sort 
 do in our town?" she asked ingenuously a ques- 
 tion which was immediately followed by a ridicu- 
 lous exhibition of self-consciousness on the part 
 of every man present. 
 
 As for the subject of their conversation, she 
 had proceeded to her suite of rooms, where trunks 
 and boxes in profusion awaited her. Nothing more 
 was seen of her that afternoon; nor did she leave 
 her apartments in the evening. And so far as the 
 hotel knew, and so far as the town knew, Louis, 
 the waiter, who had served her in the palm-room 
 and likewise with a slight repast at seven o'clock, 
 was the last person to see her that night.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 A WELCOME INTRUDER 
 
 THE Indian Queen Hotel rests on an eminence 
 near the centre of the town. From its broad win- 
 dows a good view is to be had of the city stretch- 
 ing to the north as far as the distant hills. To 
 the east, and directly below the Hobart suite, are 
 the hotel gardens with their carefully kept shrubs, 
 plants, and flowers. 
 
 That the new occupant of these apartments re- 
 garded them with approval goes without saying. 
 Never in her career and it was afterwards said 
 that she had somehow contrived to have always a 
 gorgeous setting for her base of exploits had she 
 found surroundings more to her liking. Luxuri- 
 ous by nature though for reasons which will be 
 seen later she had dispensed with the services of 
 a maid she wandered from room to room, busy- 
 ing herself with making herself thoroughly at 
 home and revelling in the big, old-fashioned 
 closets, the comfortable chairs, and dainty furnish- 
 ings. But, as the evening hours slipped by, she 
 
 13
 
 I4 THE CATSPAW 
 
 was conscious of a feeling that is, perhaps, best 
 described as depression. It was plain that she 
 was mentally disturbed; that there was something 
 on her mind from which she could not escape ; and, 
 under the stress of this emotion, she walked to 
 and fro from one room to another. It had noth- 
 ing to do with her arrival in the town she was 
 perfectly well aware of the excellent impression 
 she had made. Indeed, there was no need for 
 anxiety on that point, since a superb cheval glass 
 reflected an exquisitely beautiful woman, tall, with 
 deep blue eyes and dark hair, robed in a marvel- 
 lous violet-strewn crepe-de-chine gown that accen- 
 tuated the slight, long-waisted figure such as one 
 sees nowadays in a way that made it appear de- 
 cidedly girlish. At last this feeling, apparently, 
 was overpowering her, and, with an impulsive 
 movement of irritation, she switched off the lights, 
 went over to the window, drew back the curtains, 
 and stood for a long time looking out into the 
 night. 
 
 How quiet everything was! Not a soul to be 
 seen anywhere! The beauty of the scene held 
 her. After a while the moon slipped behind some 
 clouds, and she was about to let the curtains fall
 
 A WELCOME INTRUDER 15 
 
 when she thought she discerned some one moving 
 stealthily in the garden. In a flash she became the 
 self-collected woman that she really was, all her 
 senses becoming alert as she quickly focused her 
 eyes upon the spot where she believed she had seen 
 some one taking care that the folds of the heavy 
 curtains should hide her until she should ascer- 
 tain whether her presentiment was right. 
 
 A minute passed, another, and still she watched. 
 But the next moment, leaning far out of the win- 
 dow, she strangled a little cry of surprise; and, 
 quickly letting the curtains fall back into place, 
 she glided noiselessly across the room and tried 
 the locks of all the doors. When she turned, a 
 man was making his way through one of the 
 windows. 
 
 " Kitt! " she whispered. 
 
 " Right! " came in a care-free voice. 
 
 "Is it really you, Kitt?" she repeated softly. 
 
 The man laughed lightly. 
 
 "How did you make it?" she went on. 
 
 For answer he pointed to the window. 
 
 " I came by the fire-escape." 
 
 " But some one must have seen you? " she in- 
 quired, alarmed.
 
 1 6 THE CATSPAW 
 
 Again he smiled. 
 
 " Have you forgotten so soon that to move 
 unseen is my specialty?" And, leading her to a 
 window, he continued: "Do you see that bulky 
 edifice where the lights shine dimly from its win- 
 dows? That building is the Iroquois Club. I'm 
 supposed to be there. Its lawn adjoins on the 
 west; here below us run the hotel gardens; I 
 crossed in the shadows and came to you." He 
 clasped her now in his arms. 
 
 " I hardly knew you, Kitt, in that blond 
 beard," she said. " And yet, your eyes ..." 
 
 "You like it then?" he asked, stroking his 
 moustache with caressing white fingers. 
 
 " To tell the truth, I never saw you looking 
 better," she told him with undisguised admiration. 
 " Of course, you were handsome without it," she 
 hastened to add; "but with it you are sublime! 
 You must wear it always if for no other reason 
 than ..." 
 
 She broke off suddenly on hearing footsteps 
 outside in the corridor. St. John glanced at her 
 questioningly; she nodded affirmatively. 
 
 " Locked? Good! " he said; and, after a mo- 
 ment, he went on, a suspicion of a smile lurking
 
 A WELCOME INTRUDER 17 
 
 in his eyes: "I hear that you are now Mrs. 
 Bellairs, of Quebec. Tell me, did you ever reach 
 Quebec?" 
 
 "No. I didn't get that far," she answered, 
 burying her face in her hands to shut out from 
 him some of the emotion that she felt even in the 
 darkness must be there. " It's three years," she 
 commented reflectively, " since I've seen you. 
 They had no right ..." 
 
 " Oh, don't bother about the years ! Let's for- 
 get them forget the unpleasant things! But 
 where are the lights? I haven't had a good look 
 at you, Roxie;" and he ran his hand along the 
 side of the wall. 
 
 " Don't I " she cried. " You must be mad 
 . . . ! Why, the shades are up ! " And, going 
 over to the windows, she drew down the shades; 
 he switched on the lights as she turned to come 
 back. 
 
 "There! ..." he began. 
 
 " Three years," she broke in confusedly. 
 
 " Cut them out, Roxie ! " a little impatiently. 
 " However, I must say they've been deuced kind 
 to you. Why, you're more wonderful than ever ! " 
 
 And indeed she was. For the pallor that some
 
 1 8 THE CATSPAW 
 
 strange experience had left upon her face had only 
 enhanced her attractiveness. 
 
 " Have you any money to spare now? " he de- 
 manded, somewhat abruptly. And, despite his 
 beard, his face had a distinctly boyish expression. 
 
 Roxane burst out laughing. 
 
 44 Money to spare? As if any woman ever had 
 money to spare ! " She shrugged her shoulders. 
 "No; but I have luggage. And you? " 
 
 St. John ignored her question and merely 
 laughed. Presently he said: 
 
 " Of course, you received my letters? " 
 
 44 Yes." 
 
 14 They didn't tell you because they couldn't 
 what I've done in the last three years here." 
 
 "Oh, then you've " 
 
 44 Done just what you wanted me to do fol- 
 lowed your instructions to the letter. I walked into 
 the town one day and hung up my hat. Since 
 then " he drew himself up 4 ' well, you must 
 have seen you saw me in the palm-room to- 
 day?" 
 
 She looked up at him quickly, genuine admira- 
 tion shone in her eyes. 
 
 " Kitt, you are drole you are irresistible !
 
 A WELCOME INTRUDER 19 
 
 Why, you have only to walk in anywhere and 
 hang up your hat ! Is that not so ? " 
 
 After an inappreciable pause, he said: 
 
 " Roxie, I'm wondering how you'll get along 
 here. There is no doubt about the men I saw 
 that to-day. They'll admire you, all right. The 
 question is the women and in the end, you know, 
 it's always the women who decide. . . . How- 
 ever, if you get the Tony Shackletons with 
 you, and I believe you can, the rest will be 
 easy." 
 
 " I see," she laughed. " You began with the 
 women; well, then, I shall begin with the men. 
 For one thing, it will be more fun. But tell me," 
 she suddenly demanded, her eyes narrowing, " how 
 about this richest girl in town this Miss Doro- 
 thy Paget?" 
 
 St. John flushed, for there was just a tinge of 
 jealousy, he thought, in Roxane's attitude. In- 
 deed, a sharper note had crept into her voice ; and 
 it was with some trepidation that he hastened to 
 reassure her. 
 
 " Don't be alarmed, my dear, it's only a flirta- 
 tion the mildest kind ..." 
 
 " It's less of a flirtation, Kitt, than you imag-
 
 20 THE CATSPAW 
 
 ine," she told him pointedly. ' You are making 
 love to Miss Miss Dorothy Paget, and no one 
 knows better than you how to make love to a 
 young girl. But does she make love to you ? Oh, 
 don't look at me that wayl I know what I'm 
 saying. You are wasting your time, believe me. 
 Besides, there are other women with whom you 
 might make more headway." 
 
 Again he flushed, this time with positive annoy- 
 ance at her cleverness, for he felt that what she 
 had said was true. 
 
 "Naturally," he explained, "I felt it wise to 
 try to make an impression on the richest girl in 
 town." 
 
 " Of course," she answered mockingly. 
 
 He disdained her little stab and was silent. 
 
 " You are one of the best-known men in town ? " 
 she went on. 
 
 "Apparently. But that doesn't get me any 
 money." 
 
 She placed her hand upon his shoulder. 
 
 " And there is nothing, absolutely nothing 
 against you here in town?" 
 
 " Nothing. But it's high time I did something. 
 I need the money; so do you. When you say the
 
 She motioned to him to sit down beside her
 
 A WELCOME INTRUDER 21 
 
 word, Roxie, I shall be ready to begin, and I 
 know I shall succeed." 
 
 Roxane thought for a moment. 
 
 "What particular line?" she asked. 
 
 " The old one," he told her. 
 
 The pallor deepened on her face. 
 
 'Why not the safer, cleverer methods?" 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " The clever methods are no longer up-to-date. 
 Besides, were I to sell a share of stock, or any- 
 thing of that kind, I'd be suspected in an instant." 
 
 " But the old methods are risky? " she faltered. 
 
 ;< What's got into you, Roxie? Playing scared, 
 are you? Buck up! However, the scheme that 
 I've planned has never been done." 
 
 " Tell me about it," she asked with great en- 
 thusiasm; and, drawing two chairs up before the 
 small wood fire burning cheerfully in the grate, 
 she motioned to him to sit down beside her. 
 "Now," she said, thrusting the tips of her shoes 
 on the fender, and, with half-turned profile, gaz- 
 ing up at him. 
 
 " Did I not tell you that I crossed the lawn of 
 the hotel-gardens and climbed the fire-escape to 
 you without being seen? No one in this town
 
 22 THE CATSPAW 
 
 knows that I am here; fifty people believe me in 
 the club. Roxie, I have not been idle these three 
 years." 
 
 " Why do you insist upon keeping me in the 
 dark? Open up what's the game ?" 
 
 " A simple enough one," was his enigmatic 
 answer. 
 
 Roxane looked at him curiously; his eyes were 
 dancing; there was a flush on his cheek. In- 
 stinctively she knew that they stood on the 
 threshold of a great enterprise. 
 
 " Roxie, don't ask too many questions. Some 
 day you will understand, but that day is not yet. 
 However, I'm ready to act when you say the 
 word." 
 
 Roxane wrinkled her brow. She knew St. John 
 too well to press him further on an interdicted 
 subject. 
 
 " I don't half-like this secrecy," she returned, 
 and made a little grimace. 
 
 "But I, I . . ." And he drew himself up, 
 squared his shoulders, and a shrug completed his 
 sentence. 
 
 For a moment there was a silence; it was the 
 woman who broke it.
 
 A WELCOME INTRUDER 23 
 
 " I looked around a bit before I made up my 
 mind to come to this town. To be precise, it was 
 not only the hope of meeting you that brought me 
 here; it was the chance that seemed to offer itself 
 to do these people." She chuckled. 
 
 St. John's eyes sought hers again. 
 
 "That reminds me," he said; "where can we 
 meet?" 
 
 " Surely not here not anywhere in town. You 
 should not have come to me to-night. It's not 
 safe for you not safe for any scheme of ours that 
 we should be seen together." 
 
 " But how shall we meet? " he persisted. 
 
 " In Manhattan, of course." 
 
 "The old place?" 
 
 " Why not? Neither of us has been there for 
 these three years." 
 
 "The old signal, too, I suppose?" 
 
 Memory lighted up her face. 
 
 " Yes. In the meantime I'm going to have my 
 fling!" 
 
 And, being a woman, in the end she had her 
 way, and, having her way, it was not fifteen hours 
 before she started to put it into execution.
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 JULES GASPARD FIGURES MORE OR LESS 
 
 THE president of the Manufacturers' National sat 
 twirling his thumbs in front of his expansive waist- 
 coat, thinking, singularly enough, of the woman 
 who sat in a corner of the palm-room of the In- 
 dian Queen Hotel the afternoon before. A clerk 
 entered and placed upon the desk a card. 
 
 " A lady to see you, sir," he said; and Mr. Bon- 
 wit, never more happy than when in the society 
 of the fair sex, twirled his thumbs with greater 
 satisfaction, and nodded patronisingly, saying 
 quickly : 
 
 " Show her in, Peters, show her in." But when 
 his glance rested on the card, his face paled and 
 reddened in turn. " Wait, Peters ! " he called 
 out, " wait a moment before showing her in ! " 
 And, springing from his chair with an agility quite 
 remarkable for one of his years, Mr. Bonwit re- 
 paired to a little alcove in the corner of his office, 
 where, standing before a mirror, he examined the 
 
 state of his countenance ; and not until he had seen 
 
 24
 
 JULES GASPARD FIGURES 25 
 
 that his collar pressed becomingly against his fat 
 neck, and had carefully brushed up such hirsute 
 adornment as remained upon the top of his 
 head, did Mr. Bonwit return to his chair at his 
 desk. 
 
 " Now, Peters," he announced, " you can show 
 the lady in." 
 
 " I am Mrs. Bellairs," said his visitor, enter- 
 ing with an unsuccessful assumption of business- 
 like purpose. 
 
 Mr. Bonwit quickly placed a chair. Then his 
 hand strayed to his forehead to make sure that 
 the work done by the military brushes had not 
 yet been undone, strayed to his necktie to see that 
 his diamond pin occupied its usual effective posi- 
 tion, and finally strayed to his coat-pocket to see 
 that the right quantity of handkerchief-border was 
 in evidence. 
 
 " I am very glad to make your acquaintance, 
 Mrs. Bellairs," he now said with a great deal of 
 warmth. " What can I do for you? You desire 
 to open an account?" 
 
 Roxane bowed and fumbled with the dainty 
 silver-mounted bag which she invariably carried 
 with her.
 
 26 THE CATSPAW 
 
 Mrs. Bellairs was good to look upon, particu- 
 larly good, thought Mr. Bonwit, his eyes never 
 once leaving her face. Presently the woman 
 turned her full gaze upon him, an action that em- 
 barrassed and yet delighted him, for there was 
 something in her manner of focusing her glance 
 and especially now that gave her the appearance 
 of being wholly engrossed. 
 
 " I propose to open an account with you, Mr. 
 Bonwit," she quietly informed him, "but possibly 
 not for ten days. I have come to you for quite 
 another purpose," she added, as though her only 
 reason for coming to Mr. Bonwit was Mr. Bonwit 
 himself, a thought that sent the colour creeping 
 pleasantly far above that gentleman's collar. 
 
 " I am not a business woman," Mrs. Bellairs 
 continued; "and yet, there is one piece of busi- 
 ness that I have learned from my husband." 
 
 Mr. Bonwit's brow clouded as he interrupted 
 her quickly with : 
 
 " And may I ask what is the piece of business, 
 Mrs. Bellairs, that you have learned from from 
 your husband? " 
 
 "He was a man of large business interests," 
 sighed the visitor.
 
 JULES GASPARD FIGURES 27 
 
 " Oh, then your husband is dead? " he said with 
 seemingly ill-concealed pleasure. 
 
 Roxane nodded affirmatively; Mr. Bonwit's 
 change of tone by no means escaped her. 
 
 She went on: 
 
 ' Yes, he was a man of large business inter- 
 ests, and he always told me that if I found 
 myself in a strange place and needed to em- 
 ploy a lawyer, that there was only one way 
 to get a man upon whom one could rely 
 absolutely." 
 
 Mr. Bonwit opened wide his eyes; he was 
 plainly interested. 
 
 "And that was?" 
 
 ". . . to get the lawyer for a national bank 
 in the town I happened to be in," she informed 
 him, smiling. " Such a man, he assured me, was 
 bound to be reliable." 
 
 " A capital idea," observed Mr. Bonwit, re- 
 turning her smile. A moment later he added: 
 " So you need a lawyer, do you? " 
 
 " Yes. Therefore, I have come to you," she 
 said in her most engaging manner. 
 
 "Humph!" came from Mr. Bonwit. "But 
 are you quite sure about it? Lawyers cost money,
 
 28 THE CATSPAW 
 
 you know." Then he added significantly: " Can- 
 not I offer my advice, Mrs. Bellairs? " 
 
 " Next to lawyers, Mr. Bonwit, I admit I have 
 a great respect for bank men," she returned tact- 
 fully. " But I must consult a lawyer." 
 
 " Oh, in that case, I can introduce you to the 
 best man we have in town." He pushed a but- 
 ton; Peters entered. "Peters," he directed, "go 
 to Major Holbrook's office and ask him to come 
 over here right away." 
 
 In a remarkably short space of time, Major 
 Holbrook a grizzled gentleman with an iron- 
 grey moustache, dressed in a grey suit ornamented 
 with a red necktie entered the room. Upon him 
 sat the air of a man-about-town. He started 
 slightly when he perceived the woman. 
 
 " This is Major Holbrook," said Mr. Bonwit. 
 " He is our lawyer, and the best in town. Major, 
 Mrs. Bellairs desires to consult you upon busi- 
 ness." 
 
 The Major glanced calmly from the flushed 
 face of Mr. Bonwit to the immobile countenance 
 of his new client. 
 
 " Does she wish to consult me here? " the Major 
 inquired.
 
 JULES GASPARD FIGURES 29 
 
 "Yes . . ." 
 
 " No," interposed the woman quickly. 
 
 So it was settled that Roxane should accom- 
 pany Major Holbrook to his office, a short dis- 
 tance down the street, where she proceeded at 
 once to inform him that her husband, in his life- 
 time, had always believed that the best invest- 
 ments lay in properties in towns or cities within a 
 radius of twenty-five miles from New York. 
 
 The Major sniffed with some slight business 
 excitement, for he saw a chance for a big fee, or 
 a series of big fees. 
 
 " Do you mean to infer that that is your object 
 in coming to our city? " 
 
 " My husband," the lady went on, with a grow- 
 ing simulated interest, " saw your city and liked 
 it. He told me it was the coming city of your 
 state, and I I, somehow, know it, feel it, even 
 though I have been here only a short twelve hours. 
 Who was it that said * cities have a character of 
 their own just like human beings ' ? That is it, 
 no matter who said it. And what a difference I 
 have found in the atmosphere of this place com- 
 pared with that of other places I have known, 
 especially for the last three years ! It was, indeed,
 
 3 o THE CATSPAW 
 
 the character of your city that attracted me and 
 my initial impressions rarely play me false." 
 
 The Major was glad to note that however 
 business-like Mrs. Bellairs' husband may have 
 been, that she herself was far from being busi- 
 ness-like; that even as the city had made its im- 
 pression upon her, he, too, was making a favour- 
 able impression, his every look, word, and gesture 
 being followed by her glance. 
 
 " But what is it, dear madam, that you desire 
 of me?" 
 
 Roxane leaned across the desk, and said in a 
 way that left no doubt in his mind that she placed 
 her entire confidence in him: 
 
 " Simply see that my husband's money is prop- 
 erly invested here in your town see that nobody 
 cheats me out of it." 
 
 Major Holbrook nodded with professional in- 
 terest. 
 
 " Mrs. Bellairs," he said, referring to her card, 
 " may I ask where your husband's money is in- 
 vested?" 
 
 " Ah, it is that old Gaspard, of Quebec, who 
 has charge of everything!" returned the young 
 widow with an impatient shrug of the shoulder.
 
 JULES GASPARD FIGURES 31 
 
 " And who is Gaspard, may I ask? " 
 
 Again Roxane shrugged her shoulder. 
 
 " He's a solicitor, a counsellor, one like you.'* 
 She smiled and held up her hand with an ex- 
 pressive gesture. " No, not like you," she cor- 
 rected ; " not tall, not robust, not distingue; oh, 
 no, not that ! But of the profession yes ! " 
 
 With difficulty, the Major concealed his amuse- 
 ment; nevertheless, he asked: 
 
 " Then, it is this lawyer Gaspard who has 
 charge of your affairs?" 
 
 The young woman smiled; but an expression of 
 annoyance crossed her face as she replied: 
 
 " He has altogether too much to say, my friend, 
 and does as he sees fit." 
 
 "Is he trustee?" 
 
 " He's everything," she told him, with another 
 shrug. 
 
 " And he's perfectly safe? " queried the lawyer. 
 
 Roxane made a little moue. 
 
 " So safe, my friend, that he will not let me 
 spend my own money. He is what you call 
 1 tight.' But honest oh, as honest as the day is 
 long! But, then, he's under security, adminis- 
 trators' bonds, or whatever you call them. Oh,
 
 32 THE CATSPAW 
 
 yes, he's safe enough! But we shall get it all 
 all of my estate out of his hands, out of Quebec." 
 
 " Then, you wish me to . . . " 
 
 Roxane quickly cut in with: 
 
 "To write a letter. One of those hard, stern 
 letters that go with those brave moustaches of 
 yours, and tell this old Jules Gaspard that he must 
 pay my income. I must have ready money." 
 
 " Your will shall be done," declared the Major, 
 smiling. " And now, his address, please." 
 
 " But I must see this letter! " she cried out ex- 
 citedly, at the same time laying an imploring hand 
 upon his arm. " I must know that you have raked 
 him well over the coals." 
 
 The Major touched a button, and, calling in 
 his stenographer, rapidly dictated a somewhat 
 stereotyped letter. In a few minutes the stenog- 
 rapher handed him a typewritten copy of it, which, 
 in turn, Major Holbrook handed to his client to 
 read. 
 
 " Oh, that is too easy ! There's too much pro- 
 fessional courtesy about it!" she exclaimed with 
 a shake of the head. " No, Major Holbrook, that 
 will not do. Won't you please dictate another?" 
 
 Thereupon the Major burst forth into an
 
 JULES GASPARD FIGURES 33 
 
 epistle that seemed to burn the very paper. 
 Couched in polite phrase, it did what his client re- 
 quested: it raked Jules Gaspard fore and aft. 
 
 "Ah, that is more to the point!" announced, 
 the widow, with a bewildering smile. " We shall 
 take this matter up, step by step, until we have 
 succeeded. Be good enough to let me know when r 
 you have heard from M'sieu Gaspard," she con- 
 cluded at the elevator, where Major Holbrook 
 left her. 
 
 Once more in her luxurious apartments in the 
 Indian Queen Hotel, Roxane sought out from her 
 massive baggage a little leather steamer-trunk, un- 
 locked it, threw back the cover, and removed from 
 a remote corner a leather kit that had been care- 
 fully tucked away. Of all the possessions that 
 Roxane could boast of, this little leather kit was 
 the one she prized most highly, but it also was 
 the one she boasted of the least. And now, after 
 carefully locking the doors, she proceeded to draw 
 down the shades, and, in the dim light, opened 
 this holy of holies, glancing upon its contents with 
 undisguised admiration. From it she extracted 
 first a rubber stamp, then a miniature typewriter, 
 a bewildering assortment of pens, a bottle of red
 
 3 4 THE CATSPAW 
 
 and blue-black ink, an envelope, a heavy, hand- 
 somely engraved sheet of business letter-head, and 
 finally a long, narrow bank cheque the cheque of 
 a Quebec bank. The letter-head bore the name 
 of Jules Gaspard, Solicitor and Attorney-at-Law, 
 Notary Public, Quebec; and to one side, in 
 squarely blocked letters, appeared the words: 
 " The Bellairs Estates." 
 
 Rapidly she placed the sheet of paper in the 
 typewriter, and as rapidly wrote a brief but 
 pointed note, which she signed in a small but mas- 
 culine hand; then she filled out the cheque, and, 
 with the rubber stamp, quickly stamped it across 
 the face, countersigning it with red ink. And now, 
 folding the cheque and letter with scrupulous care, 
 she thrust them into the envelope and sealed it; 
 and, finally placing the latter within a larger en- 
 velope, she addressed this to Jules Gaspard, Que- 
 bec, P. Q., Jules Gaspard, whose office consisted 
 of one room, one desk, and one chair, whose an- 
 cient, worn, and weather-beaten shingle creaked 
 upon its hangings and flapped to and fro in the 
 wind. 
 
 Roxane Bellairs had said that Jules Gaspard 
 was honest; but she did not say that he was hon-
 
 JULES GASPARD FIGURES 35 
 
 est for the reason that no client ever crossed his 
 portal, no funds were ever placed in his hands, that 
 his fondness for cognac and Canadian brandies 
 had reduced him to a stage where he knew but one 
 lesson, though he knew that lesson well. Like- 
 wise, she did not mention that his only task 
 which earned him the few dollars per week that 
 made his life worth living was to receive the let- 
 ters which she sent to him, and, after removing 
 their outer envelope, to attach a stamp to the inner 
 one and promptly put them in the general post- 
 office in the City of Quebec. Such was Jules Gas- 
 pard, whose fame for tightness in various particu- 
 lars was quite unequalled, and in whose hands the 
 funds of the Bellairs Estates, such as they were, 
 were undoubtedly safe. 
 
 It was about three days later that Major Hoi- 
 brook telephoned to Mrs. Bellairs at the Indian 
 Queen Hotel that he had received a letter that 
 would interest her. 
 
 " Ah, my friend, I see it in your eyes," she said 
 on entering the Major's spacious offices; and, 
 pressing warmly the hand which the Major held 
 out to her in greeting, she added : " You have news 
 from this Gaspard, have you not? "
 
 3 6 THE CATSPAW 
 
 The Major chuckled. He was not only glad 
 to please her, but he was glad to have his first 
 effort, in her behalf, a very considerable success. 
 And, tossing before the dancing eyes of his lovely 
 client an envelope postmarked Quebec a letter 
 upon a heavy sheet of business paper, and a long, 
 narrow cheque, he answered: 
 
 " I think we fetched him." 
 
 Roxane glanced at the envelope and read the 
 letter through with studied carelessness. It said : 
 
 HON. J. T. HOLBROOK, 
 
 Counsellor at Law. 
 
 Honoured Sir: Mme. Bellairs must understand once and 
 for all that I, the close friend and business associate of her 
 late husband, shall administer the affairs of his estate in 
 the manner that shall best conserve her interests. It is for 
 her benefit, not for her pleasure that I act. I know, and she 
 does not. She is extravagant a spendthrift. You will find 
 enclosed, Honoured Sir, a cheque for a small portion of her 
 income for the present year. Mme. Bellairs will understand 
 that this portion is all that can be vouchsafed to her at the 
 present time. The bulk of her income she will not get for 
 some months. Kindly give me advice as to its receipt. I 
 remain, sir, 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 JULES GASPARD. 
 
 1 Thirty thousand dollars ! " she exclaimed, her 
 eyes flashing. "The idea! It is not enough!
 
 JULES GASPARD FIGURES 37 
 
 Major Holbrook," she went on, tapping her dainty 
 foot excitedly, " this won't do. No, it's not 
 enough Jules Gaspard must be made to 
 pay . , ." 
 
 Major Holbrook blinked his eyes; perfunctorily 
 he nodded in response to her vehemence; but in 
 the back of his head there kept running through 
 his brain a phrase that he had plucked bodily out 
 of the letter: "the bulk of her income she will 
 not get for some months." He eyed his client 
 a small fraction of whose yearly income was rep- 
 resented by a certified check for thirty thousand 
 dollars with undisguised astonishment. What 
 was the sum-total of the yearly income of the 
 Bellairs Estates ? What did the principal amount 
 to? Major Holbrook could only wonder and sur- 
 mise; some day he would know. 
 
 "Ah, well," said the widow, rising, and once 
 more pressing the Major's hand, " we will leave 
 old Gaspard alone for the present. We must con- 
 sider his age and the state of his nerves; is it 
 not so? I thank you, Major Holbrook, and, if 
 you will send me your bill at once, I'll ..." 
 Which injunction, by the way, the Major did not 
 obey.
 
 38 THE CATSPAW 
 
 Now, any other person in the town of M 
 
 having in his or her possession a certified cheque 
 for thirty thousand dollars, would have taken the 
 cheque to a bank and deposited it to his or her 
 credit; but not so Roxane. Instead, she quietly 
 returned to her apartments in the Indian Queen 
 Hotel, and once more locked herself within. 
 
 " Some day," she said to herself, drawing from 
 her dressing-table a dainty little packet of gold- 
 tipped cigarettes ornamented with the Bellairs 
 crest, " I must teach the ladies of this town how 
 to enjoy a cigarette. For the present ..." She 
 broke off suddenly and rolled the certified cheque 
 for thirty thousand dollars into a quill, lit it with 
 a match, and watched it burn down almost to the 
 end before igniting her tiny cigarette. 
 
 As she languidly blew up rings of smoke into 
 the air, she smiled to herself at the thought of 
 what she had accomplished that morning with a 
 little rubber stamp.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 MR. BONWIT UNDER BONDS 
 
 IT was one of Mrs. Shackleton's big nights. The 
 rooms were crowded; the dance was on; the joy 
 was unconfined; and Mrs. Tony, triumphant and 
 resplendent in her superb ivory-white satin gown, 
 as she stood close to the entrance smilingly greet- 
 ing her guests, could not refrain from telling her- 
 self that, before very long, her entertainments 
 would be as famous as those of the great houses 
 in the nearby metropolis. 
 
 In the unusually spacious conservatory which 
 for this particular night had been transformed into 
 a veritable South American jungle occasional 
 glimpses could be had of beautiful women flitting 
 back and forth under the soft lights; the agree- 
 able confusion of many voices filtered in from the 
 dancing-room; the melody of stringed instruments 
 drifted in from the veranda; but Mr. Bonwit 
 had no ears for the voluptuous music, nor eyes for 
 any one save the beautiful widow Bellairs. 
 
 For the last few months Roxane had had every- 
 
 39
 
 40 THE CATSPAW 
 
 thing that she had wished for. But how she had 
 lived, or upon what, the good people of the town 
 never knew or never asked. Her intimate friends, 
 however, and she had made not a few, learned, 
 bit by bit, that the settlement of her extensive 
 estate, still long delayed, was not far off. That 
 she had arrived socially, her presence this evening 
 at the Tony Shackletons' was sufficient evidence. 
 Indeed, it would hardly be an exaggeration to say 
 that she had the town practically at her feet 
 she had become the fashion. 
 
 ". L.. . the happiest man in the world, . . . 
 the loveliest woman in the universe," murmured 
 Mr. Bonwit, as with his none too strong right arm 
 he pressed the dainty head of the widow to his 
 breast, his left hand clasping her bare white 
 shoulder. 
 
 Roxane lifted up her face to his and looked him 
 in the eyes a glance of suppliant appeal that 
 lifted him into the seventh heaven of delight. 
 
 " I want to tell you something, dear," she said, 
 clinging to him feverishly, insistently, ecstatically, 
 " something that you must believe. It is true," 
 she went on in low musical tones that sent the life 
 surging through his veins, "that, although I've
 
 MR. BONWIT UNDER BONDS 41 
 
 been married once before, this is my first love 
 affair." 
 
 "I believe you," he answered seriously; "I 
 somehow knew it without your telling me." His 
 voice trailed off into a subdued tremolo: "To 
 think that you are mine, mine . . ,. ! " 
 
 Presently Roxane drew him to a seat beneath 
 the palms, whose delicate spears thrust themselves 
 everywhere in great profusion; and, taking both 
 his hands in hers, she continued: 
 
 1 Yes, I want to be yours, all yours, as neces- 
 sary to you as your daily bread. I want to sink 
 myself in you, dear, and be loved by your people 
 and your friends ..." She broke off abruptly, 
 releasing herself suddenly from his embrace. 
 
 " What's the matter, dear? " queried Mr. Bon- 
 wit, somewhat alarmed at the change in her coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 Roxane did not answer. Her perturbation was 
 brought about not because of her discovery of the 
 identity of a man and a woman who unseen by 
 Bonwit and well-nigh hidden from every other 
 eye save hers sat at the other end of a clearing 
 a space running through the centre of the vegeta- 
 tion that, by some strange circumstance, was di-
 
 42 THE CATSPAW 
 
 rectly in front of her; she had seen them together 
 on the first day of her arrival; what rendered her 
 almost speechless with surprise and excitement was 
 the expression that she had detected on the face 
 of the girl looking into that of her companion. 
 
 Again Mr. Bonwit inquired, anxiously, the 
 cause of her unusual excitement. 
 
 " Oh, it's nothing nothing at all, dear," she 
 said, seizing his hand in hers and pressing it 
 firmly. " Can't you understand that I'm in love 
 in love for the first time? " 
 
 And love, even if it were soon to take the form 
 of jealousy, there certainly was in the eyes of 
 Roxane as she gazed not at Mr. Bonwit, but at 
 the man engaged in an intimate conversation with 
 the woman at the end of the little green passage- 
 way of palms. 
 
 But it was the girl, as has been said, and not 
 the man, that had caused Roxane so much con- 
 cern. There was something written on the face 
 that she was watching that she had never seen 
 there before : a glory in the eyes that never comes 
 but once love. And there was another surprise 
 in store for her: for, at the moment when she was 
 reflecting to herself that it was too bad that the
 
 MR. BONWIT UNDER BONDS 43 
 
 girl's feelings should be trifled with in this man- 
 ner, her glance strayed back to the man now 
 bending over the girl, and Roxane perceived, to 
 her amazement, that his face, too, was lit up with 
 like glory. No wonder her brain reeled: never 
 had he looked at her like that. 
 
 And now alert, and with all the jealous instinct 
 of her sex, Roxane drew breath sharply inward 
 and started to her feet; but, the next instant, she 
 sank down into her seat, covering her face with 
 her hands, and began to laugh hysterically, her 
 whole attitude presenting what seemed to the won- 
 dering Mr. Bonwit a picture of despair. Quickly 
 recovering, however, and the better to explain her 
 conduct, and, perhaps, because she needed to find 
 some outlet for her feelings, she drew Mr. Bon- 
 wit's head down until the two at the other end of 
 the little passageway came within the range of his 
 vision, and then she whispered lightly in his ear: 
 
 " We are not the only culprits, dear friend. 
 Cupid is busy, is he not? He has flown from us 
 to them." 
 
 "They didn't see us," began Mr. Bonwit 
 sheepishly. Then he recognised the pair, and his 
 honest countenance broke into a smile. " Well,
 
 44 THE CATSPAW 
 
 if it isn't Dorothy Paget and Kitt St. John! " he 
 exclaimed. " Looks as if they were in earnest, 
 too." And so deep was his tone of conviction that 
 Roxane found herself starting once again. 
 
 "Do you really think so?" she demanded, 
 clutching him by the arm. " Why, it can't be pos- 
 sible ., ... ... .! It should be stopped stopped at 
 
 once." 
 
 "Why?" queried Bonwit, puzzled. 
 
 " It should be stopped," repeated the widow 
 firmly. " Why, he's not good enough for her = 
 some good friend you, for instance should in- 
 terfere. Really, if you don't, I . . ." She 
 broke off suddenly; then, in a trice, her mood 
 changed. " Have you any idea," she whispered 
 guiltily, " how long we've been sitting here? Why, 
 it must be hours . . ." 
 
 " Hours that passed like minutes, dear," he ven- 
 tured, smiling. 
 
 " Faster than that," she answered, sighing. 
 "Oh, life has been so so dreary until . ... ." 
 She paused, her eyes glittering as once more she 
 glanced at St. John. 
 
 Roxane had been quite right in her diagnosis 
 of the feelings of at least one of the two persons
 
 MR. BONWIT UNDER BONDS 45 
 
 upon whom her attention had been focused, for 
 Dorothy Paget had suddenly come to realise upon 
 this night how much she cared for Kittredge St. 
 John. 
 
 That she had deliberately avoided him, con- 
 tinuously snubbed him, and frankly disliked him 
 for many months, now made no difference in this 
 sudden upheaval of her nature. 
 
 There was one thing above all others that he 
 had said to her that night for he did not then 
 declare his love that clung to her memory ever 
 afterwards. 
 
 " No matter what happens, Miss Paget, I want 
 you to believe in me," he had told her earnestly. 
 "Will you promise me that?" 
 
 And her eyes, though abashed by the love she 
 had seen in his, nevertheless had clung to his face. 
 
 " But I do believe in you," she had answered 
 softly and that was all. 
 
 Meantime, Mr. Bonwit had succeeded in re- 
 capturing the widow's attention, and was saying 
 something that sounded like music to her ears. 
 
 " My dear Roxane, you must forgive the stupid 
 love-making of an old fossil like myself. There 
 is one thing, however, that I wish to do to con-
 
 4 6 THE CATSPAW 
 
 vince you of my affection. You won't be sur- 
 prised or offended to receive, to-morrow morning, 
 a package from Solomon & Brown's?" 
 
 She smiled shyly and looked at the third finger 
 of her left hand. 
 
 " Solomon & Brown's 1 Why, they're not 
 jewellers." 
 
 " Oh, the ring! I'll get that fast enough," he 
 told her, smiling. " I mean," he went on, "that 
 I've transferred to you a little batch of Tri-State 
 bonds twenty thousand dollars' worth or more 
 a sort of pre-nuptial gift, you know." 
 
 " But, my dear man, you should not have done 
 that ! " she exclaimed, apparently annoyed. 
 
 "Why not?" he insisted. "I wanted you to 
 know, to feel, even before we were married, that 
 what's mine is yours. I want you to realise that 
 now," he went on eagerly, as though he could 
 not bear the thought of a refusal. " It won't 
 be long now, anyway, before our wedding, 
 Roxane." 
 
 " But what shall I do with these these bonds, 
 did you say?" was the woman's ingenuous ques- 
 tion. " I don't need money indeed, I do not, 
 dear," she added, closing her eyes in order to
 
 MR. BONWIT UNDER BONDS 47 
 
 thank whatever gods she worshipped for this wel- 
 come dispensation. 
 
 " Of course, you don't I know that. But 
 you'll take them, dear, take them to please me? 
 Put them away in your safe-deposit vault, any- 
 thing. Surely, you understand how I feel about 
 it." 
 
 She held out her hand and pressed his. 
 
 " I do understand, and I shall receive it in the 
 spirit you give it, never fear." 
 
 On the top floor in the smoking-room, Jerome 
 Olyphant and his bosom cronies Major Hoi- 
 brook and little Archie Varnum struggled into- 
 their overcoats, disposed of their last cocktail, and 
 lit fresh cigars. 
 
 "Now, where in thunder is that man Bonwit? " 
 commented Olyphant genially. " We were all go- 
 ing to sit in a friendly little game that I fixed up 
 down at the Iroquois, and we were going to quit 
 here about midnight, and start there at one. Here 
 it is half-past two, and no Bonwit ! Now, where 
 the deuce is he? " 
 
 Archie Varnum drew down the corners of his 
 mouth.
 
 4 8 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " Don't you know? " he queried. " Well, come 
 on, overcoats and all, and we'll find out ! " 
 
 Halfway down the stairs Olyphant caught him 
 by the arm. 
 
 " You don't mean to say that he's . ., L ." 
 
 "What, Bonwit! Ridiculous!" spluttered 
 Major Holbrook. " She'd have nothing to do 
 with him a man of his years ! " Which opinion 
 was heartily endorsed by Olyphant. 
 
 Notwithstanding, regardless of the conventions 
 or of waltz or two-step, they pushed their way 
 through room after room; no one had seen Bon- 
 wit. A fair debutante suggested that they try the 
 orchids, which, however, they did not do. For 
 no sooner had the words left her lips than Dorothy 
 Paget, unusually calm, save for a glitter in her 
 eye, emerged from one entrance of the big con- 
 servatory, while almost immediately Kittredge St. 
 John, his face still feverish and flushed, made his 
 way in from another and stepped forward into 
 the midst of his friends Varnum, Holbrook, and 
 Olyphant. 
 
 They hailed him with glee. 
 
 " St. John, what's become of Bonwit? " queried 
 Olyphant, the spokesman of the party.
 
 MR. BONWIT UNDER BONDS 49 
 
 4 The last I saw of him he was with Mrs. Bel- 
 lairs," answered St. John with a significant smile. 
 
 " But he was to join us in a game ! Suppose 
 you take his place ? " suggested Olyphant. 
 
 The four men strolled to the Iroquois Club, 
 sought the card-room, and started in to play. But, 
 for some reason or other, the men were much 
 less absorbed in the game than was usually their 
 wont. 
 
 " He must be fifty at least," came from Oly- 
 phant while the cards were being dealt. It was 
 not necessary for the name to be mentioned in or- 
 der that the friends should know about whom the 
 broker was speaking. 
 
 "Fifty-five, if he's a day!" declared the 
 Major irritably. 
 
 " Old enough, at any rate, to make an ass of 
 himself," was another contribution of Olyphant's. 
 
 " Well, by thunder," insisted Varnum, " it looks 
 to me as if he'd got her! Or, rather, she's got 
 him, which, needless to say, is a very different 
 thing." 
 
 Finally the Major slapped his cards down upon 
 the table and started up, saying : 
 
 " I've got to quit I can't play. I don't mind
 
 5 o THE CATSPAW 
 
 saying that I've got the lovely Mrs. Bellairs on 
 my brain to-night. How about you, Kitt?" 
 
 They all turned to St. John. 
 
 St. John smiled soberly. 
 
 " It's not the widow that I'm thinking of," he 
 said evasively. 
 
 St. John lived at the Elberon, a few blocks down 
 the street, and he and little Varnum, whose home 
 was around the corner from the Elberon, started 
 off together. As they reached the Elberon, Var- 
 num suddenly turned to St. John and held out his 
 hand. 
 
 " Kitt," he said, " I've got a confession to make 
 to you one that I hope you'll be glad to hear. Do 
 you know that, for months and months, while all 
 the town was taking off its hat to you, I didn't like 
 you? Don't ask me why I didn't, that's all." 
 
 Kittredge St. John shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " Considering that I've never liked myself any 
 too well, I'm not surprised ..." 
 
 " But I was wrong," said Varnum, his pressure 
 deepening upon St. John's hand, " and the town 
 was right. Now, I want to be your friend, your 
 very best friend, if I may, and if there's ever any- 
 thing that I can do, anything at all, remem-
 
 MR. BONWIT UNDER BONDS 51 
 
 ber . . ." The little fellow broke off in em- 
 barrassment, for he was hopelessly in love with 
 Dorothy Paget, and instinctively he felt that he 
 had little hope of success, with St. John in the 
 running. 
 
 " Thank you, old boy. You're more than kind. 
 I shan't forget your words." 
 
 As Varnum rounded the corner toward his 
 home, St. John stood for a moment looking after 
 him, then plunged into the brilliant light of the 
 Elberon, and took the elevator to his apartments. 
 
 Five minutes had not elapsed after his entrance 
 when there came a knock upon the door. To his 
 " come in," a bell-boy entered and handed him 
 an envelope. It was addressed in the handwriting 
 of a woman ; he tore it open hastily and withdrew 
 its contents the blank half of a postal-card. 
 
 With a puzzled, interested look upon his face, 
 St. John tossed the card and envelope upon his 
 chiffonier, then he turned out the lights, and went 
 to bed.
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 DUPES 
 
 MAJOR HOLBROOK, the astute and genial coun- 
 sellor at law of the Town of M , sat very much 
 
 at ease with all the world. His feet were cocked 
 up upon the table and he leaned far back in his 
 revolving-chair. 
 
 He was musing pleasantly upon the pleasures 
 of the night before. " The Tony Shackletons cer- 
 tainly know how to dig out a good time for us 
 all," he said to himself. " And, as for Roxane 
 Bellairs ..." His thoughts trailed off into a 
 reverie. He wondered what the town would say 
 if he and the fascinating widow should make a 
 match, wondered what the future would hold for 
 him with a woman like her at his side, to say 
 nothing of the Bellairs millions! His thoughts 
 were interrupted by the door being gently opened; 
 he looked up to see a woman entering. 
 
 In an instant the Major forsook his undignified 
 position, dropped his neatly-shod feet to the floor, 
 and drew himself upright. 
 
 52
 
 DUPES 53 
 
 " Well, if it isn't Mrs. Bellairs ! " he exclaimed, 
 a happy smile on his face. " Why, I was just 
 thinking of you ! " 
 
 " A penny for your thoughts," she said, taking 
 a seat near the window, for her face was one 
 that could stand the test, where the full light of 
 the sun fell upon her. 
 
 The Major flushed slightly. 
 
 " It takes a good deal of courage, sometimes, to 
 tell one's thoughts. I wonder," he went on, 
 drawing closer to her, " I wonder if I dare ..." 
 
 " Last night, at the Tony Shackletons', you 
 might have dared, but ..." 
 
 "Last night!" he broke in grumblingly. 
 " What opportunities did I have why, only once 
 did I catch sight of you, and then this Bon- 
 wit . . ." 
 
 Roxane laughed a merry laugh and looked the 
 Major bewitchingly in the eyes. 
 
 " This Bonwit," she repeated, imitating his tone 
 perfectly. "Well, what about Mr. Bonwit?" 
 
 "U'm," said the Major, settling himself into 
 his seat. " Suppose you tell me something about 
 Bonwit?" 
 
 Roxane shrugged her shoulders expressively;
 
 54 THE CATSPAW 
 
 for answer she delved into her little handbag and 
 drew forth a flat package tied with red tape. 
 
 " There," she said, tossing it over lightly to- 
 ward him, " there are eighteen one-thousand- 
 dollar Tri-State bonds. Won't you count them, 
 please? " 
 
 " Why count them? " he returned with a smile. 
 "Your word ..." 
 
 "No, no," she said with a shake of the head; 
 and, deftly seizing the bundle, untied the knot, 
 and laid before him, one after the other, the 
 eighteen bonds bonds that she had received that 
 morning by special messenger from Philander 
 Bonwit. 
 
 " They're gilt-edged, my dear Mrs. Bellairs. 
 But how does it happen that you did not consult 
 me about this investment?" he asked with some 
 show of the annoyance he felt. " Whom did you 
 consult?" 
 
 " Now, my dear Major, you must not get too 
 curious," she answered with a tantalising little 
 laugh. " I should like to borrow upon these 
 bonds," she went on, smiling. " May I? " 
 
 The Major still looked annoyed. 
 
 " But, my dear Mrs. Bellairs, why do you come
 
 DUPES 55 
 
 to me ? " There was elaborate protest in his 
 voice. " Why did you not go to well, I believe 
 we were talking about Mr. Bonwit, were we not? 
 Why did you not go to Bonwit ? " 
 
 The Major's voice was so intensely authori- 
 tative that Roxane drew herself up a little and 
 gave him a slightly resentful glance before 
 answering : 
 
 " For a very good reason, my dear Major 
 because I knew that you would refuse me noth- 
 ing; Mr. Bonwit might ..." 
 
 The Major sniffed suspiciously. 
 
 " Before we go any further, let me ask you a 
 question. Is there anything between you and 
 Bonwit?" 
 
 Roxane tightened her lips, pouted petulantly, 
 gathered up her bonds, tied them with the red 
 tape, and returned them once more into her bag. 
 
 " If you will not talk business, Major Hoi- 
 brook," she said with a suddenly repressed man- 
 ner, " why, then, I'll have to say good-morning." 
 
 The Major looked hard at her; she seemed to 
 be on the point of open warfare. So, before she 
 had reached the door, he called her back, promis- 
 ing that he would confine himself to business, if
 
 56 THE CATSPAW 
 
 she would consent to talk about themselves 
 later. 
 
 Roxane returned slowly, an indulgent smile on 
 her face. 
 
 " Well, then, let's see how well you can talk 
 business," she said, settling herself once more at 
 the desk; and again she drew forth a package tied 
 with tape, and tossed it before him on the desk 
 a package that was the counterfeit presentment of 
 the other, and that, while it seemed to consist of 
 eighteen bonds, in reality could boast of but two : 
 one bond on the top, and another on the bottom, 
 and sandwiched in between were sixteen docu- 
 ments worth exactly the paper they were written 
 on and nothing more. 
 
 "How much do you want, Mrs. Bellairs?" 
 asked the Major, hardly glancing at the package. 
 
 " Ten thousand dollars," she returned in a dis- 
 tinctly persuasive voice. 
 
 'Why not eighteen thousand?" he suggested. 
 " The bonds are selling at a premium." 
 
 Mrs. Bellairs found it difficult to frame an 
 answer at once. At length she ventured : 
 
 " No, ten thousand dollars is what I want, but 
 I should like it in cash, if possible, right away."
 
 DUPES S7 
 
 And the Major, immediately seizing his cheque- 
 book, wrote out a cheque for the required amount 
 and passed it over for her to endorse. 
 
 " Oh, dear, it's on Mr. Bonwit's bank," she 
 said protestingly. 
 
 " But what of that? " he demanded. 
 
 " Oh," she half-gasped, " I should prefer that 
 Mr. Bonwit knew as little as possible about my af- 
 fairs, Major Holbrook." 
 
 The Major's eyes flashed hopefully. 
 
 " He is not persecuting you with his attentions 
 making himself disagreeably attentive; is he, 
 Mrs. Bellairs?" 
 
 The widow looked down and sighed. 
 
 " Don't ask me, Major Holbrook. I merely 
 say to you that I could not go to Mr. Bonwit." 
 She stopped a moment, and then, through lids that 
 seemed to veil her glance, rendering it all the more 
 subtle and fascinating, she went on : " Let this 
 matter be between ourselves just you and 
 I ..." 
 
 And Roxane Bellairs was successful in her ef- 
 forts. Five minutes later she had shut her little 
 handbag with a final click; inside of it reposed 
 ten thousand dollars in one-thousand-dollar bills!
 
 5 8 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " You have done me a service, my dear Major, 
 that I shall not soon forget," she said as she left. 
 
 Later that day Roxane paid a visit to Archie 
 Varnum, the little stock-broker, St. John's friend. 
 
 Varnum was quite as pleased to see her as had 
 been the Major, though his reason was of a dif- 
 ferent nature. 
 
 " Am I to understand, Mrs. Bellairs, that our 
 friend the president of the Manufacturers' Na- 
 tional is to be congratulated? " he hazarded, after 
 some brief reference had been made to the enter- 
 tainment of the night before. 
 
 Roxane laughed in spite of herself. It was as if 
 the mention of Mr. Bonwit was a subject that 
 amused her. At any rate, it gave Varnum the 
 immediate impression that Mr. Bonwit had es- 
 sayed to win the widow, in his clumsy way, and 
 had failed. So that Varnum, like his visitor, at 
 once became amused; but, unlike the Major, he 
 saw that the widow was bent upon business, 
 and he proceeded immediately to the matter in 
 hand. 
 
 Again the little handbag was brought into 
 requisition; and the widow whom Varnum, to- 
 gether with every other resident of the town, knew
 
 DUPES 59 
 
 to be worth millions laid before his gaze sixteen 
 bonds of the Tri-State Road, as genuine as gold 
 itself. 
 
 " My dear Mr. Varnum, could you, by any 
 hook or crook, obtain for me or negotiate, as you 
 call it, a loan this morning upon these bonds?" 
 
 " Why not sell them? " he asked. " Tri-State 
 is in bully shape this is the time to sell. I can 
 sell them for you." 
 
 " Oh, but I don't want to do that ! A loan is 
 what I want." 
 
 " That's easy, too ! What do you want fifteen 
 thousand? " 
 
 Roxane hesitated. For an instant she wondered 
 vaguely to herself why she had not asked that 
 amount of the Major? 
 
 "How much have you here on hand?" she 
 asked, feeling her way cautiously. 
 
 Whereupon Varnum consulted his books. 
 When he came back he suggested that he take her 
 bonds over to Bonwit's bank, concluding with: 
 
 " It won't take a minute." 
 
 " No, no, I don't wish you to do that I " 
 
 "The First National then, or the Federal 
 Trust?"
 
 60 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " No. How much have you here, Mr. Var- 
 num?" 
 
 " About Thirteen Thousand I can let you have 
 twelve of that as easy as not." 
 
 "In cash?" 
 
 " Why, yes, of course only too glad to be of 
 service to you." 
 
 Roxane flushed at the sincere admiration in his 
 eyes, and in her embarrassment began to gather 
 up the bonds, tying carefully, though with studied 
 carelessness, the red tape about them; while Var- 
 num, looking down upon her, thought what an 
 attractive woman she was. 
 
 Suddenly, she looked up, and said with uncom- 
 promising candour: 
 
 " Mr. Varnum, why is it that you never never 
 make love to me? Oh, don't look frightened! 
 Not in earnest, of course. But don't you see that 
 then Mr. ..." 
 
 " Bonwit would see that he had no show, is that 
 it? " he cut in, for Archie saw her point at once: 
 Bonwit was pestering the life out of her and she 
 wanted to put a stop to it. Therefore, without 
 waiting for an answer, he continued: " I see, you 
 want me to scare him off. But where would I
 
 DUPES 6 1 
 
 come in? Wouldn't they all be laughing at 
 me?" 
 
 At once Roxane's face took on an expression of 
 mock solemnity. 
 
 " And we wouldn't want that, would we, Mr. 
 Varnum? " Then, with one of her quick changes, 
 she became serious. " I don't mind telling you 
 that I know your secret know that you're in love 
 with Dorothy Paget. But you are too self-effac- 
 ing, not persevering enough, and you'll lose her if 
 you don't look sharp." She paused a moment, 
 wrinkled her brow, and then suddenly asked : " By 
 the way, who is this Mr. St. John that he should 
 come between you and her? " 
 
 Varnum's face clouded over for an instant be- 
 fore answering: 
 
 " Since we are getting so confidential, Mrs. 
 Bellairs, I may as well admit to you that I do 
 love Dorothy Paget, but I love her far too well 
 to force myself on her, especially when she makes 
 it so evident that she prefers some one else my 
 friend, Kittredge St. John." 
 
 Roxane made a little gesture of impatience. 
 
 " I see," she said, looking him full in the face, 
 " you need some one to help you. Why not let
 
 62 THE CATSPAW 
 
 me take possession of this intruder and give you 
 your chance." The sudden hope that she per- 
 ceived in his eyes affected her strangely; so that, 
 when she bade him good-bye, it was with the most 
 encouraging tone that she added : " But mind, Mr. 
 Varnum, I shall expect you to succeed." 
 
 Entering a cab, Mrs. Bellairs drove down the 
 street four blocks, turned two blocks west, and en- 
 tered the building in which was Jerome Olyphant's 
 office. 
 
 Olyphant welcomed her, so to speak, with open 
 arms. Unfortunately, or fortunately, perhaps, 
 Olyphant was not a bachelor, a fact, he had to 
 acknowledge, that might easily bring about embar- 
 rassing situations. Nevertheless, he had little 
 difficulty in persuading himself that in this case 
 he ran no risks. And, far from thinking that any 
 complications would be apt to grow out of his re- 
 lations with the excellent Mrs. Bellairs, he was 
 satisfied that the fact of his being a married man 
 would merely lend additional spice to the routine 
 of pleasure which the lady was pursuing so 
 vigorously. 
 
 Moreover, it flattered him to have been singled 
 out of all the staid old clubmen in the town as one
 
 DUPES 63 
 
 who understood the secret of the solution of 
 the mystery of life. Furthermore, inordinately 
 selfish as he was and almost a bankrupt, while his 
 friends were all prosperous, it is no wonder that 
 he secretly hoped that some of the Bellairs mil- 
 lions could find their way into his coffers. 
 
 When Roxane called he was expecting her, and, 
 therefore, he made no attempt to disguise the 
 pleasure in his welcome. 
 
 With Olyphant the widow's manner was quite 
 different from what it had been with the others, 
 whom she had boldly courted. But Olyphant 
 needed no such stimulus; and she forced herself 
 to be contented with an occasional blush and the 
 effect that was to be best obtained by downcast 
 lids. 
 
 " Mr. Olyphant," she began hurriedly, " my 
 time is very limited. You have you have the 
 deed ready, have you not? " 
 
 Olyphant nodded, and said with a somewhat 
 sober little smile: 
 
 " I'm glad to see my little place go into such 
 good hands. But, Mrs. Bellairs," he went on, the 
 money question ever uppermost in his mind, " you 
 are getting a bargain."
 
 64 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " Indeed, I know it," she answered gratefully. 
 " To my mind, it's the only home in town. I 
 searched high and low for something that suited 
 me, until I saw your villa, and then I was deter- 
 mined that it should be mine." 
 
 Olyphant pressed his finger-tips together and 
 frowned a troubled frown. 
 
 "If it were not for the fact that my creditors 
 are Well," he ran his fingers through his tousled 
 hair, " it's a case of must or you couldn't have 
 the Olyphant homestead at any price; that is, un- 
 less " he added gallantly, his eyes brightening- 
 " unless you happened to be a part and parcel of 
 the consideration. But that, apparently, being out 
 of the question . . . " 
 
 Roxane now glanced toward him with a look 
 of archness, the subtlety of which claimed his at- 
 tention for the moment. 
 
 " Why, Mr. Olyphant," presently she returned, 
 her eyes opening wide, " of course, you must never 
 forget that, although the place is mine, I shall 
 always think of it as a place where its former owner 
 has every right, shall be always welcome. Do not 
 think yourself an evicted tenant, I beg of you." 
 
 Olyphant, at these somewhat unexpected words,
 
 DUPES 65 
 
 was about to seize her hand and make some un- 
 wise avowal, but she stopped him. 
 
 " I owe you, Mr. Olyphant," she exclaimed 
 briskly, "just $16,000; do I not?" 
 
 " Right," said Olyphant. " The purchase- 
 price is $21,000 the mortgage on the place re- 
 mains at $5,000. You're to sign this bond and 
 mortgage for $10,000 of the purchase money, and 
 you owe me $6,000." 
 
 Roxane quickly drew forth a roll of large bills 
 from her purse, saying: 
 
 " Mr. Olyphant, I don't suppose it will make 
 any difference to you if I give you one thousand 
 dollars cash, and my note for thirty days for the 
 remaining five thousand dollars?" 
 
 Olyphant stiffened. His business caution came 
 to his aid, and, for the moment, he wondered 
 whether such a course would be safe. The situa- 
 tion was s unusual; however, immediately he 
 found himself nodding a quick assent. 
 
 "Why, certainly, Mrs. Bellairs," he said. 
 " Your word would be enough, and, of course," he 
 went on with an imitation of her manner, " you 
 know if you should not meet your note, why I 
 might come up there and take the place back.
 
 66 THE CATSPAW 
 
 if only I had known you fifteen years ago ! " he 
 sighed. 
 
 " Perhaps your wish ..." She stopped and 
 quickly changed the subject. " You will take the 
 note?" 
 
 Olyphant was about to answer her question in 
 the affirmative; but instead he suddenly held up 
 his hand, saying: 
 
 " Just a moment, Mrs. Bellairs." 
 
 Roxane was all smiles; he passed out of the 
 room, ostensibly to seek a blank form, closing 
 the door behind him. In the next room he pro- 
 ceeded to call up Mr. Bonwit. It was like him to 
 wonder whether he had not blundered in saying 
 that he would take the check and note. For Oly- 
 phant was Olyphant, and always would be, even 
 where fascinating widows were concerned, and the 
 bee of caution was buzzing insistently in his brain. 
 " I'd best make sure," he told himself as he took 
 up the receiver. 
 
 For some time there was no response. Then 
 suddenly Bonwit's breathless voice leaped from 
 the midst of the murmurs of the wire. 
 
 " Hello, old man, this is Olyphant." 
 
 11 Oh ! " gasped Bonwit, " you're in luck to catch
 
 DUPES 67 
 
 me. Been on the jump all the afternoon just 
 stepped in here this minute. What's up, Oly- 
 phant?" 
 
 Olyphant lowered his voice. 
 
 " It's confidential," he returned. " I'm closing 
 a little deal with Mrs. Bellairs." 
 
 "What?" cried Bonwit in astonishment. 
 
 " Yes," laughed the other. " Never mind what 
 it is." Then Olyphant thought he would risk it. 
 " She does not want you to know, Bonwit. But, 
 look here, I'm taking her cheque, do you see for 
 one . . ." 
 
 " Dollar? " laughed Bonwit. 
 
 " Thousand," answered Olyphant. " And it's 
 a queer thing to ask ridiculous, I grant you, but 
 it's business she's good, isn't she? " 
 
 Bonwit at the other end of the wire absolutely 
 snorted. 
 
 " Good as gold," he answered; and rung off. 
 
 And still Olyphant was unaccountably uneasy. 
 He got Major Holbrook on the wire. 
 
 "Look here, Major," he said, "I'm closing 
 a little deal with Mrs. Bellairs." 
 
 "What?" cried the Major in astonishment. 
 "What's the deal?"
 
 68 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " I'm selling her my little bijou of a place on 
 Chatham Road, and what I want to find out is 
 whether I am safe in taking her note for thirty 
 days?" 
 
 "How much is the note?" 
 
 " Five thousand." 
 
 " Her note is good for five hundred thou- 
 sand," called back Holbrook. " But what I can't 
 understand is, why she does this without consult- 
 ing me? " 
 
 " Oh, I forgot I She told me not to mention it, 
 and particularly not to you," responded Olyphant. 
 " Perhaps she intends to marry." 
 
 "Indeed!" was all that Olyphant heard over 
 the phone; but, to himself, the Major was saying 
 while his face was wreathed in smiles: " The little 
 minx didn't want me to know ..." 
 
 " Much obliged, old man," concluded Olyphant. 
 
 " You can't go wrong on that," were the 
 Major's final words. And hanging up the re- 
 ceiver, he seated himself before his desk where, 
 with eyes closed in blissful contemplation of the 
 future, he murmured: "I wonder if Olyphant 
 knows whom she's going to marry? But this 
 purchase this house Oh, I see, she doesn't
 
 DUPES 69 
 
 want to tell me wants to surprise me, I 
 suppose." 
 
 While Olyphant, at the other end of the wire, 
 as he walked away, was saying to himself: 
 
 "Marry!" He chuckled. "It's little the 
 Major knows. I know of one dear friend that 
 Mrs. Bellairs will be pleased to entertain on 
 Chatham Road." 
 
 And, when Mrs. Bellairs had departed, he, too, 
 gave himself up to pleasant dreams. 
 
 That afternoon at five o'clock Roxane Bellairs 
 stood at the P. R. & Q. station waiting for the 
 Express to come in, and, glancing with undisguised 
 affection into the face of Philander Bonwit, she 
 said: 
 
 " But where are my orchids?" 
 
 Philander smote his forehead. 
 
 " My dear, I forgot them. I was so busily en- 
 gaged with other matters. By the way, you got 
 a package from ..." 
 
 "All aboard! " sang out the conductor. 
 
 " You must hurry out, dear ! " she cried, for he 
 had entered the Pullman car with her. " It would 
 never do for you to be carried on."
 
 7 o THE CATSPAW 
 
 "But that would be heaven!" he exclaimed, 
 and then his brow clouded. " If it wasn't that our 
 wedding-trip " her eyes sought his for one brief 
 instant " if it wasn't that I'm going to be away 
 so long next month, I'd go with you. But, as it 
 is, . . ." 
 
 " As it is," she answered, " I shall soon be back. 
 Until then good-bye." 
 
 " Au revoir," he whispered. Mr. Bonwit was 
 seized with an uncontrollable impulse to kiss her, 
 but the car was too alive with curious eyes. Has- 
 tening to the exit, he swung out on the platform 
 and watched, with wistful eyes, the train gather 
 speed and recede into the distance. 
 
 " My wife to be," he said half-aloud, raptu- 
 rously, " my life Roxane. . . . This week will 
 seem ten years."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE SLICK MR. ST. JOHN 
 
 THAT same evening in one of the higher-class 
 apartment-hotels in a side street in Manhattan, 
 Roxane Bellairs was waiting for St. John. There 
 was an air of subdued expectancy about her. At 
 every sound in the hall without she started visibly; 
 she seemed to be struggling with the excitement of 
 conflicting emotions. But, nevertheless, when the 
 knock came on the door that told her that the ex- 
 pected visitor was actually about to enter, she 
 controlled her impatience to rush forward, and 
 allowed a second or two to elapse before she 
 gave him permission to come in. He entered, 
 smiling. 
 
 Kitt St. John's smile was no inconsiderable part 
 of his engaging personality. There were those 
 who could vouch for its appearance in moments of 
 extreme peril; others remembered how wonder- 
 fully his face would light up when anything ap- 
 pealed to his keen sense of humour. But, whether 
 he thought the present situation dangerous or 
 
 71
 
 72 THE CATSPAW 
 
 amusing, it served him now as a mask: it con- 
 cealed, from the woman lying back languidly in a 
 chair, putting a gold-tipped, lighted cigarette to 
 her red lips, the fact that he was aware that some- 
 thing ominous was on her mind. 
 
 But, even as he advanced towards her, an in- 
 definable change took place in her manner. For 
 a moment she looked into his roguish eyes, then 
 she said: 
 
 " Kitt, dear, I have brought you sixteen bonds 
 and money plenty of it over twenty thousand 
 dollars, to say nothing of a deed." 
 
 St. John watched the play of joyous thought as 
 it passed over her beautiful features. To him the 
 sum that she mentioned was absurdly small; but 
 under no circumstances did he wish to give her any 
 pain. But what should he say? Presently, cau- 
 tiously feeling his way, he ventured : 
 
 " But a deed to what, Roxane? What can we 
 do with a deed? " 
 
 " A deed for Olyphant's house we can sell it, 
 Kitt get some broker to put the deal through. 
 We can even do what we did in Los Angeles sell 
 it to half-a-dozen different people at one time." 
 She laughed lightly. "What a fuss there would
 
 THE SLICK MR. ST. JOHN 73 
 
 be when they all met at the Register's Office to 
 record their deeds ! " She checked her laughter 
 abruptly: something in his manner told her that 
 he was not satisfied. " But you don't seem 
 pleased? " she asked. " Have I failed , . , ? " 
 
 " Failed ! Nonsense, my dear girl ! " he has- 
 tened to assure her. "But it would take a long 
 time to make a haul with these people by your 
 methods. You might make good in time but the 
 town is slow, the people in it conservative, cau- 
 tious. You see, they've made their money in trade, 
 have seen nothing. It would take time to educate 
 them up to your our standard, notwithstanding 
 that you have the whole town at your feet." 
 
 " What good does that do to me since I have 
 left there for ever?" 
 
 St. John looked at her sternly. 
 
 " But you have not left there forever. You're 
 going back." 
 
 St. John took a cigarette from a box on the ta- 
 ble, lit it, and puffed away at it coolly for a few 
 minutes, glancing, with apparent complacence, at 
 her bowed figure. Suddenly something in this at- 
 titude of hers smote his conscience, and he drew 
 near to her.
 
 74 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " Why, what's the matter, Roxane? Brace up! 
 Remember that our compact leads to but one end 
 you and I, down the ages, with a million." He 
 placed a hand upon her shoulder; indignantly she 
 broke away from him. 
 
 " How dare you, after last night ! " she cried. 
 
 " Last night? What occurred last night? " 
 
 " You know very well what occurred." Her 
 face was aflame now. " Don't try to evade me ! 
 I sent for you to tell you that I won't have you run- 
 ning after that woman Dorothy Paget." 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, Roxie, spare me to-night ! 
 You know perfectly well that J am only playing a 
 game a part of our game." 
 
 " Up to the last few weeks, yes," she declared. 
 "But now Oh, I saw her face last night! You 
 are making love to Dorothy Paget in dead earnest 
 and she loves you. The game is getting too 
 deep for you, Kitt." 
 
 St. John's eyes twinkled; this fit of jealousy 
 seemed to please him. 
 
 " But two, evidently, can play at that game," 
 he observed. " How about Bonwit and yourself 
 t and am I jealous? " 
 
 1 You know perfectly well how much I care for
 
 THE SLICK MR. ST. JOHN 75 
 
 Bonwit, Olyphant, and the rest. . . . Except 
 for their money, I detest them all ! " 
 
 But St. John was not through with jesting. 
 
 " How about society they say that you've 
 agreed to marry him in a month? If that's the 
 case, why shouldn't I marry Dorothy Paget? " 
 
 " Marry her ! " she echoed, flashing him an 
 angry look. 
 
 " Why, yes," he proceeded coolly between puffs 
 of his cigarette. " She's the richest girl in town. 
 Here's the situation in a nut-shell : You marry Bon- 
 wit and get all he has, and I'll marry Miss Paget 
 and get all she has. It won't necessarily have to 
 be a long marriage, and then we . . ." 
 
 "Never!" snapped out Roxane, bringing her 
 small hand down with great force upon a nearby 
 table. 
 
 " Not even for a month?" he went on tanta- 
 lisingly. 
 
 Roxane's anger vanished; she took refuge in 
 tears. 
 
 " To think," she sobbed, " that you could talk 
 to me like that. Yes, I've failed, miserably failed 
 all I've done all I've got, I suppose, is hardly 
 enough to keep us a few months."
 
 76 THE CATSPAW 
 
 St. John did not answer for a minute; when he 
 resumed he had completely dropped his bantering 
 tone. 
 
 " Now, look here, Roxane, will you stop this 
 nonsense? I'm going to take a hand now. 
 There's lots of money in that town lots of money 
 in the banks, lots of jewelry in the safe-deposit 
 vaults, and I'm going to have some part of it. 
 But you've got to believe in me believe that what- 
 ever happens, no matter what it is, it is a part of 
 the game." 
 
 Roxane looked up at him quickly. On her face 
 was that confiding expression that rarely failed to 
 induce men to give her what she wanted. Her dis- 
 belief in him was decreasing even as her curiosity 
 increased. 
 
 " You are telling me the truth? " she asked. 
 
 "Have I ever deceived you?" he calmly re- 
 turned. 
 
 " But you haven't told me what your plan is ? " 
 she demanded, ignoring his question and hoping to 
 catch him off his guard. 
 
 " Now, Roxie, there's one thing that even you 
 will have to acknowledge, and that is that Kitt 
 St. John never told his plans and secrets yet to a
 
 THE SLICK MR. ST. JOHN 77 
 
 woman. It's a dangerous thing to do, and I'm not 
 going to begin to do it at this stage of the game. 
 You must let me go about things in my own 
 way, and not interfere so please don't ask me 
 again. ..." And, with these words, he picked 
 up the deed lying upon the table and looked it 
 over. 
 
 " By George, I'm glad you've got this place ! 
 It comes in fine just at this time! You need just 
 such a place as this where you can entertain 
 and . . ." 
 
 " But will you promise me," she interrupted, 
 " to stop paying attentions to that Paget girl, if 
 I go back?" 
 
 " I can promise you nothing. Unfortunately, 
 that Paget girl is one of the things that can't be 
 avoided. You must believe in me implicitly." 
 
 There was a pause in which he held her glance, 
 held it until his had triumphed over hers, and 
 then, singularly enough, she uttered the same words 
 that two other people had uttered but a few short 
 hours before. 
 
 " I do believe in you, Kitt," was her earnest 
 answer. After a little while she added: "How 
 about money? " For a moment the eyes of both
 
 7 8 THE CATSPAW 
 
 the man and the woman longingly rested on the 
 Tri-State Bonds ; then the woman seized them and, 
 tossing them to him, said: "They're all yours, 
 Kitt, take them." 
 
 " No," quickly returned St. John. " I don't 
 know nor do I care to know how you got them, 
 but you had better keep them the money and the 
 bonds. We're running a big risk as it is. I must 
 start my campaign at once. No you keep them 
 I don't need them. There's one thing I must have, 
 however, that's a motor-car." 
 
 St. John rose; she clasped him excitedly about 
 the neck. 
 
 "Will you promise me, Kitt, that, whatever this 
 thing is that you are going to do, you'll get it over 
 with as soon as possible ? Then we'll with what- 
 ever you get we can always manage ..." 
 
 " Never fear, Roxie, I'll get away with what 
 I'm after, all right, and it will be a million." 
 
 Slowly Roxane picked up the bonds and re- 
 placed them in her bag. 
 
 " And the motor you need? " she asked. " You 
 propose getting it in our usual way? " 
 
 St. John's knitted brows smoothed out and re- 
 sumed their wonted humorous, whimsical lines.
 
 THE SLICK MR. ST. JOHN 79 
 
 " Most assuredly," he answered. " Why not? " 
 
 Roxane smiled in spite of herself at his un- 
 bridled confidence. 
 
 And so it happened that on the following morn- 
 ing two prosperous-looking individuals, a man and 
 a woman, their automobile-goggles half-pushed up 
 across their foreheads, their clothes liberally sprin- 
 kled with dust indicating recent motor rides- 
 presented themselves at the office of Champenois 
 et Cie. Their advent was welcomed with not a 
 little pleasurable excitement by the dapper young 
 agent of Champenois et Cie.; for, although 
 Champenois et Cie. were specialists their spe- 
 cialty being the " Hermes," a car that could travel 
 seventy-five miles an hour and that sold for 
 seventy-five hundred dollars, not a few days 
 had passed without any one having entered 
 their office with a request even for a trial. It 
 looked as if no one was looking for their car; 
 the Hermes 1910 had become a drug on the 
 market. 
 
 " We wish to see a Hermes," said the man, his 
 voice a bit rasping and high, but extremely well- 
 bred, and at the same time drawing down his 
 motor-goggles further over his face. * That is,"
 
 8o THE CATSPAW 
 
 he added, turning to the woman beside him, " Mrs. 
 Kerlin wants a racing-car." 
 
 " If I can ever find just what I want," spoke 
 up the woman, likewise drawing her goggles 
 down over her face; " but I don't believe I can." 
 
 " I'm sure I have the car that you want," an- 
 swered the agent with a courage born of his con- 
 viction. " The Hermes '10 is the only car in the 
 universe! " 
 
 " That remains to be proven," said Mrs. Ker- 
 lin, in a most business-like tone. 
 
 Ten minutes later, the Hermes 1910 a long, 
 low, yellow car thrust its nose into the Circle. 
 Mrs. Kerlin was at the helm, her companion at 
 her side, and the agent clinging tenaciously in the 
 sole seat on the rear. 
 
 Slowly the woman drove the car across the 
 town, slowly up the avenue until she reached more 
 open country, and there, turning to the agent, she 
 asked in a manner that left no doubt in his mind 
 that she was more than a novice: 
 
 "May I let her out?" 
 
 " Most assuredly," came back quickly. 
 
 Whereupon, Mrs. Kerlin immediately threw 
 the car into third speed. Like a flash it darted
 
 THE SLICK MR. ST. JOHN 81 
 
 from one end of the long straight road to the 
 other, the woman handling it perfectly. She 
 rounded curves, climbed hills, reversed the ma- 
 chinery, and swung her car about time and time 
 again with the touch of a veteran. 
 
 "There's nothing the matter with the Her- 
 mes ! " she sang out with a note of admiration in 
 her voice. " Isn't it always the way we've tried 
 every car in town, most, and we didn't find this 
 until the last." 
 
 " I hope," said the agent eagerly, " that I may 
 be able to . . ." 
 
 " Oh, I'll buy this car, all right," she broke in. 
 " But I want this particular one why, it has come 
 to be a friend already." 
 
 Casually she asked the price; it satisfied her, for 
 presently she went on in business-like tones: 
 
 " I'll tell you what I'll do. I don't want to be 
 in a hurry, but I can give you a hundred dollars 
 on account to bind the bargain to hold the car 
 until Monday." 
 
 " It's your funeral, Madge," spoke up Mr. 
 Kerlin, on the front seat. She had taken the ini- 
 tiative throughout; he, apparently, letting her go 
 her way.
 
 82 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " Well and good, madam," replied the agent, 
 delighted at having found so ready a customer. 
 
 She drove the car into town and drew up before 
 the Sandringham on Seventy-second Street a 
 quiet, large, exclusive family-apartment house. 
 
 " If you will come in a moment, I will write a 
 check," she told him; whereupon the three left 
 the car. They had not gone more than a few feet, 
 however, when she suddenly turned, exclaiming : 
 
 " Why, you're not going to leave that car there 
 alone!" 
 
 The agent looked uncertain. It was not wise, 
 perhaps, to leave the fastest car in creation all by 
 itself on Seventy-second Street, and he was about 
 to make a suggestion that involved its safety when 
 she forestalled him. 
 
 " Why, Dick," she said, turning to Mr. Ker- 
 lin, " you can take care of the car while I take 
 Mr. Mr. in and make out the check; then he 
 can take the car back to his garage, and Monday 
 we can pay the rest in cash." 
 
 11 1 don't see why I should stay in charge of the 
 blooming car ..." grumbled the husband. 
 
 ' You'll do just as I say," remarked his wife 
 sweetly, with a glance toward the agent.
 
 THE SLICK MR. ST. JOHN 83 
 
 "I suppose I shall," grunted Mr. Kerlin; "I 
 usually do." And so he climbed upon the seat, 
 and threw one leg lazily over the other, while 
 Mrs. Kerlin tripped into the Sandringham, the 
 agent following at her heels. 
 
 " Now," she said, leading him into a little 
 writing-room, " if you will sit here, I will go to 
 my apartment and bring you down a check." 
 
 For a full half-hour that seemed like minutes 
 the agent waited. He was feeling happy, for 
 business had suddenly looked up, and so the time 
 went fast. However, as time went on, he fell to 
 musing upon the dilatory qualities of women in 
 general and Mrs. Kerlin in particular. 
 
 He rose and paced the room. He would have 
 looked out of the window, but there was none. 
 Finally he strolled to the desk. 
 
 " Would you mind calling Mrs. Kerlin and say 
 to her that I am waiting the automobile agent, 
 if you please. She has probably forgotten 
 
 me." 
 
 " What name did you say? " inquired the clerk, 
 pricking up his ears. 
 
 " Kerlin," answered the other, looking at the 
 name upon a card that he held in his hand.
 
 8 4 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " Nobody here by that name," was the quick, 
 response. 
 
 " Perhaps she's a visitor," returned the other. 
 
 " Nobody here by that name," repeated the 
 clerk, eyeing the agent suspiciously. 
 
 " That's queer," said the agent, alarmed. 
 " However, her husband is just outside I'll go 
 and ask ..." 
 
 He left the Sandringham and started toward 
 the husband, or, at least, where he was supposed 
 to be; but there was no husband there; and, what 
 is more, there was no car. That particular Hermes 
 1910 had disappeared completely from the face 
 of the earth. 
 
 "What did they look like?" demanded the 
 head of the house when the agent returned to the 
 big garage. 
 
 " Why," stammered the man, " they looked like 
 why, she had a why, he had he was why, 
 hang it all, they had on goggles all the time and 
 I don't know ..." 
 
 And, accordingly, the description that head- 
 quarters got that night was somewhat vague. 
 
 Three days later, a long, low racer, painted 
 grey, thrust its nose cautiously into Main Street
 
 THE SLICK MR. ST. JOHN 85 
 
 in the town of M just as day was break- 
 ing. 
 
 It was not a Hermes car, at least no one would 
 have recognised it as such, nor was it a Mastodon, 
 nor was it a Green Flyer. Some careful hand had 
 deftly changed its outer appearance without alter- 
 ing its mechanism, so that it bore a faint resem- 
 blance to all three of these high-class cars, but 
 resembled closely none. The man at the wheel, 
 covered and begrimed with dust, in the same 
 vague way bore some resemblance to Mr. Kerlin, 
 late of the Sandringham, New York; as a matter 
 of fact, he was none other than Kittredge St. John. 
 
 As the car passed the Indian Queen Hotel, a 
 curtain was raised discreetly at the window in the 
 Hobart suite, and a woman who under certain 
 circumstances might have looked like Mrs. Ker- 
 lin peered cautiously from beneath the shade and 
 smiled. This woman was Roxane Bellairs . . . 
 the same who later in the day again appeared at 
 the Major's office in response to her lawyer's 
 summons. 
 
 " I have something for you, Mrs. Bellairs," he 
 announced. " Guess what it is? " 
 
 "Your kind regards," she smiled.
 
 86 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " I have much more than that for you all the 
 time," he went on, " but look at this." He 
 tossed her a slender piece of paper. " Your old 
 friend, Jules Gaspard, has come to time again." 
 
 She took the piece of paper. It was another 
 check for twenty thousand dollars, certified as 
 before. 
 
 " Oh, well," sighed the fair visitor, " I sup- 
 pose old Gaspard realises after all that one must 
 livel But, my dear Major, don't let up on him 
 for a moment."
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE RICHEST GIRL IN TOWN 
 
 IT was shortly after eight o'clock one evening, 
 some days later, that a tall young man, wearing 
 a long coat and an opera hat, strode through the 
 rain and mist and ran lightly up the steps of a 
 grey stone dwelling in the west end of the town. 
 The butler knew and welcomed him as, unhesi- 
 tatingly, and yet with a measure of embarrass- 
 ment, he immediately removed his coat and passed 
 into the room just off the hall. Although it was 
 spring, there was a fire burning in the grate, and 
 it felt good to him after all the damp and cold 
 outside. 
 
 " Jove, what a night ! " he said to himself, 
 holding his hands toward the fire which, at this 
 juncture, blazed up as though in an effort to meet 
 him halfway. " A bad night to be outside a good 
 night to be in." 
 
 A moment later, glancing carelessly about him, 
 he perceived on a table an evening newspaper 
 
 which, apparently, had not been read, for it lay 
 
 87
 
 88 THE CATSPAW 
 
 unfolded, face uppermost, its black headlines 
 blinking at him in the uncertain light. 
 
 RICHARDS & RIPPLE ROBBED 
 Fourth Burglary of the Series 
 The Gang Still Unapprehended 
 
 " These fellows seem to be keeping it up," he 
 mused to himself, smiling and stretching forth his 
 hand towards the paper. Quickly, however, he 
 withdrew it and turned his back upon the sheet 
 and his face towards the fire, adding: " No, I had 
 better stick to my rule. I've made my bed by 
 Jove! a comfortable one, perhaps, from one point 
 of view, and I prefer to lie upon it. But, when 
 I think of Dorothy . . . " He stopped short, a 
 cloud resting upon his face. 
 
 Presently, he rested one shoulder against the 
 fireplace and nervously stroked a short Vandyke 
 beard. 
 
 "When I think of Dorothy," he repeated, 
 laughing, but with just a trace of bitterness in 
 his voice. " And when do I not think of her? " 
 And once more he frowned and tugged at his 
 moustache. 
 
 " But things cannot go on as they are. I must
 
 THE RICHEST GIRL IN TOWN 89 
 
 tell her not everything, of course, but enough to 
 make her understand. She must, somehow, be 
 made to understand before before we go any 
 further ..." 
 
 For some time he stood reflectively gazing at 
 the fire, his head bent and his hands thrust deep 
 into his pockets, trying to find some way out of 
 his difficulty. 
 
 " Yes, I've got to tell her . . . " he was say- 
 ing to himself when a girl, descending the stairs, 
 stepped lightly into the room a girl, tall and 
 slender, with straight eyebrows and frank, wom- 
 anly eyes, her brown hair coiled turbanwise 
 around her pretty head. She stood at the threshold 
 for a moment, glancing smilingly at him. 
 
 " Kittredge ..." she said, breaking in upon 
 his thoughts. 
 
 The man turned like a shot. A slight frown 
 had not left his face when he took the hand which 
 she held out to him. 
 
 " Dorothy," he began, " I wish you would do 
 me a favour. If you don't mind, I'd rather you'd 
 call me by my first name." 
 
 "Your first name?" she returned in amaze- 
 ment.
 
 90 THE CATSPAW 
 
 "Yes it's Henry ..." 
 
 " Henry then, your name is Henry Kittredge 
 St. John?" 
 
 " Yes that's the name I bear." 
 
 She glanced up at him smilingly. 
 
 " But but Kittredge is so much stronger; be- 
 sides, I like it better," she insisted with a protest- 
 ing blush. 
 
 He smiled indulgently. 
 
 " Possibly; but does it really make any differ- 
 ence to you there's a reason in my suggestion." 
 
 She made a slight grimace. 
 
 " No Henry, it does not," she replied with 
 a laugh. 
 
 He bowed gravely. 
 
 ;< Thank you, Dorothy. Some time I will ex- 
 plain. ..." 
 
 But the incident, slight though it was, had, for 
 the moment, caused a slight embarrassment to 
 spring up between them. In an endeavour to dis- 
 pel it, the girl crossed the room, and, taking up the 
 evening paper that was on the table, ran her eye 
 over it. 
 
 " Goodness me, how these robberies continue ! " 
 she exclaimed. " I read all this stuff through this
 
 THE RICHEST GIRL IN TOWN 91 
 
 morning. But isn't it dreadful! Moreover, they 
 say there is a lot that never gets into the 
 papers ! " 
 
 The man looked at her, seemingly inattentive to 
 her remarks; he had, unconsciously, returned to 
 the line of thought that she had interrupted. 
 Surprised that he made no reply, the girl straight- 
 ened up and said with much feeling: 
 
 " But, Henry, there is some one something 
 that I must speak to you about something I have 
 a right to speak to you about." 
 
 St. John's heart almost stopped beating; his face 
 turned very white. 
 
 " There is some one in this town some one 
 whom we both know ..." She hesitated, torn 
 between her desire to have it out with him and 
 her fear that she might hurt him. 
 
 " Then you know . . . " he began. 
 
 " Know what? " Dorothy interrupted anxiously. 
 
 St. John forced a smile. 
 
 " That's what I was just wondering, Dorothy," 
 he answered. 
 
 " I know," the girl put to him bluntly, " or 
 rather I would like to know, just what there is 
 between you and Mrs. Bellairs?"
 
 92 THE CATSPAW 
 
 The man looked at her interrogatively, and was 
 about to speak when she cut in quickly: 
 
 " No, wait; I must have my say. I know it's 
 not true, Henry that there's nothing in it; but 
 I've watched her watched you both, for that mat- 
 ter, at the Shackletons' ; everywhere, in fact and 
 she always makes love to you openly." 
 
 "Openly?" He smiled. 
 
 The girl caught his meaning, and, with diffi- 
 culty, suppressed a smile as she went on to ex- 
 plain : 
 
 " Openly to any one with eyes in her head. 
 Now, Henry, isn't it so ? " 
 
 " I remember one such occasion, possibly two," 
 he admitted half-seriously. " However, my eyes, 
 apparently, were not open quite as wide as yours, 
 for I don't recall anything quite so insistent as 
 you mention." 
 
 " I think I know when a woman is in love," 
 flared up the girl, dropping her eyes. She paused 
 for a moment to gain control of her voice. When 
 she went on there was still a slight quivering in 
 it. " I know Mrs. Bellairs is in love with you." 
 
 St. John stood quite still. His eyes were fixed 
 upon her face intently. Now he smiled at her.
 
 THE RICHEST GIRL IN TOWN 93 
 
 " But, I understand Mr. Bonwit ..." 
 
 Dorothy shrugged her shoulders petulantly; 
 while St. John made a mental note of the fact that 
 he had never seen Dorothy in a mood like this 
 before. 
 
 " Bosh ! " came from the girl. " Can't you 
 read this Mrs. Bellairs? Why, she's a born co- 
 quette flirts with every man she meets! Except 
 you, of course with you she's in dead earnest. 
 That's all I have to say, and I think," she con- 
 cluded slowly, " that I have a right to say it." 
 
 " You've a right to say anything to me, Doro- 
 thy," he told her, looking at her out of thoughtful, 
 troubled eyes, and wondering how long it would* 
 be necessary for him to lie or act lies. After a 
 moment, he continued : " Let me ask a further 
 confidence: Have you ever seen me returning her 
 advances? " 
 
 The girl searched her memory carefully. 
 
 " Yes," presently she answered. " Weeks ago, 
 before before you came into my life as you did 
 that night at the Shackletons' ..." 
 
 St. John laughed outright at this. 
 
 "Are you sure that I made love to her?" 
 
 " Absolutely."
 
 94 THE CATSPAW 
 
 St. John's eyes twinkled in spite of himself. 
 
 " Dorothy, do you think you can tell when a 
 man is lying? " 
 
 " I think I can tell when you speak the truth," 
 returned the girl quickly. 
 
 " Well, then, let me tell you that I have never 
 made love to Mrs. Bellairs, that I never shall 
 make love to her," he declared with rather a rue- 
 ful smile. " And what is more, no matter how 
 much she attracts other men in this town, there 
 is something about her that actually repels me. I 
 won't attempt to explain it." 
 
 Dorothy paused a moment while she digested 
 a doubt. 
 
 " And yet she has some unknown influence over 
 you, some ..." 
 
 " Appearances may be against me, but surely, 
 Dorothy, you believe me when ..." 
 
 The girl was very much touched. 
 'You you love me?" she murmured, lower- 
 ing her glance. 
 
 St. John started towards her, but suddenly 
 halted. 
 
 ' Yes," he replied in a tense, strained voice, " I 
 love you. You knew it then? "
 
 THE RICHEST GIRL IN TOWN 95 
 
 She nodded, still with downcast eyes. 
 
 " I've known it all along, and I . . . " 
 
 " Dorothy, if only I could ..." He stopped 
 short, his voice breaking; presently he went on in 
 tones of agonised entreaty : " Wait wait until you 
 have heard the rest heard me out! " 
 
 The girl glanced at him in a startled sort of 
 way. 
 
 "The rest?" she repeated. 
 
 " Unfortunately, yes," he responded in a low 
 voice. 
 
 Again she searched his face; he stretched forth 
 his arms, and just as quickly withdrew them, 
 though there was encouragement in the voice that 
 said to him: 
 
 " But does anything matter now that we . . . " 
 
 " Nothing to me, Dorothy, unless it does to 
 you." 
 
 Dorothy moved quietly over to the sofa, and 
 motioned to him to take a seat beside her. 
 
 " Nothing can make any difference with me," 
 she said slowly, measuring every word, " of that 
 I'm sure. But about this something that you wish 
 to tell me it isn't about a woman, and it isn't 
 about . . " She broke off abruptly and added,
 
 96 THE CATSPAW 
 
 laughing: " Surely you haven't been doing any- 
 thing wrong, such as robbing jewelry stores or 
 anything of that kind; have you? " 
 
 He took the sheet which she waved carelessly 
 before him, rose, and, without a word of explana- 
 tion, dropped it quickly in the fire; it blazed 
 up and made the room suddenly light; and 
 not until the flame had died away did the man 
 speak. 
 
 " I wonder, Dorothy, whether you can realise 
 what it means to be broke, to wander about the 
 streets of a great city with no place to lay your 
 head, day after day trying to get a job and never 
 getting it, to become, in short, an outcast upon the 
 face of the earth? " 
 
 His outburst was almost pathetic. The sight 
 of this man, usually so self-controlled, with now 
 not a trace left of his devil-may-care manner, 
 caused the girl's puzzlement to grow. 
 
 " What a question to ask! " she said at length. 
 
 " Not such a question, if you stop to consider 
 that it's a part of my life's history." 
 
 She looked at him doubtfully. 
 
 "Surely, Henry, you're jesting. ..." 
 
 " On the contrary, it is all too true that I a
 
 THE RICHEST GIRL IN TOWN 97 
 
 man, apparently without a care have been 
 through it all." 
 
 The girl could not refrain from giving a little 
 inarticulate cry. She made a movement to lay 
 her hand upon his arm, but, though he noted the 
 action with inward satisfaction, nevertheless he 
 waved her back. 
 
 " No, no, not yet; you must wait until I have 
 finished." 
 
 With an effort, the girl remained silent; pres- 
 ently he went on: 
 
 " What does the town know of Kitt St. John? 
 Practically nothing. Some day " he was speak- 
 ing rapidly now " some day I will tell you of 
 something that I have done a foolish thing, the 
 thought of which has sometimes made me stand 
 aghast. At first, it is true, I approved of it; but 
 how many times since have I denounced myself 
 for doing it! In a measure, I am reconciled to 
 the situation, for, had I not taken the step, I prob- 
 ably would never have met you. Still that only 
 complicates what was already too much compli- 
 cated." 
 
 " I'm afraid," said the girl with a faint smile, 
 41 that I do not understand. Though I do under-
 
 98 THE CATSPAW 
 
 stand," she added gravely, " that to you it seems 
 most serious." 
 
 " I wish I might tell you what's on my mind, 
 but I must be somewhat vague. You see, it's 
 largely a question of compact." St. John flushed 
 a little and drew in a deep breath. ' There is 
 one thing more that I would like to ask you," he 
 resumed after a moment. " Suppose that to-mor- 
 row I were to be stripped of every worldly thing 
 that I possess; that I were to be jeered at by my 
 friends even, are you sure that your feelings to- 
 ward me would be the same ? " 
 
 Some note of battle in the man's voice, rather 
 than the sentiment itself, caused the girl to reply 
 with much feeling: 
 
 " If that were to happen I would come to you 
 go with you to the ends of the world, if need 
 be." 
 
 St. John took her in his arms and kissed her for 
 the first time. 
 
 " Dearest girl," he murmured, " you make me 
 thoroughly ashamed. A man should shield the 
 name of the woman he loves from whatever ridi- 
 cule may attach to his." And then, somewhat 
 abruptly, so it seemed to the girl, he asked: " I
 
 THE RICHEST GIRL IN TOWN 99 
 
 believe it is not generally known that I have called 
 here with any frequency?" 
 
 She answered with a shake of her head. 
 
 "It is better so at least, for the present that 
 there be no formal engagement, nothing settled. 
 I am asking much of you, dear one, altogether too 
 much. But you can trust me? And you'll believe 
 in me no matter what reaches your ears?" He 
 laughed a bitter laugh. " I suppose millions of 
 men have said all this before, and thought they 
 meant it, too." 
 
 There was a moment's silence. 
 
 " Unfortunately," he resumed, " there are cer- 
 tain things I am forced to do. Often I cannot ex- 
 plain why I am obliged to be at well, here, there, 
 everywhere. But, if you can trust me, it's half 
 the battle. More than that, it's all the battle." 
 
 " I can," returned the girl, and the light of a 
 great affection shone in her calm, brown eyes. 
 
 " I suppose millions of girls have said that, 
 too," she added in her turn, " and found out later 
 their mistake. However, I don't want you to think 
 that I am lacking in prudence or discretion or 
 common-sense. Understand me, I'm dying of 
 curiosity to know what all this mystery means."
 
 ioo THE CATSPAW 
 
 Her eyes met his in a clear, straight glance. " But, 
 Henry, I'm taking you on trust yes, just this once 
 I take you on trust. If you are deceiving me in 
 what you say, or what you are," she concluded, 
 glancing at him with a smile radiant with confi- 
 dence, " why, I am deceived indeed." 
 
 " A little patience and I shall be free to claim 
 you as . . ." He did not finish the sentence; 
 instead, he stretched forth his arms and held her 
 in one long embrace. 
 
 A few minutes later, with Dorothy at his side, 
 he stepped into the hall and donned his long, 
 black coat. He took from his pocket a gold, 
 hunting-case watch, and, without opening the case, 
 touched a small spring: it was a repeater, and it 
 struck the hour. 
 
 " Half-past nine ! " he ejaculated. " Great 
 Scott, I'm due at the club now ! " 
 
 A moment more and Kittredge St. John had 
 passed out into the night. 
 
 For a long time after he had gone, Dorothy, 
 alone where they had spent the evening together, 
 sat musing before the glowing embers of the dying 
 fire. She reviewed the history of the past few 
 months and wondered whether she were not mak-
 
 THE RICHEST GIRL IN TOWN 101 
 
 ing a mistake. A peculiar thought was in her 
 mind, one that, even whilst she harboured it, she 
 endeavoured to dismiss as unworthy of her. But, 
 why had he . . . ? Was he quite what he 
 seemed . . j. ? The sudden entrance of her 
 maid into the room, asking whether she had not 
 forgotten the hour, put an end to her musings. 
 
 " Goodness me ! " returned Dorothy in some 
 confusion; " I had no idea it was so late! What 
 time is it, anyway? " 
 
 Whereupon the maid consulted a clock upon the 
 mantel, and informed her mistress that it was pre- 
 cisely half-past twelve.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 A PECULIAR COMBINATION 
 
 " WHAT a beastly night! " The exclamation fell 
 from the lips of a tall young man in a long, dark 
 coat a coat that enveloped him completely as 
 he stood, for an instant, looking up and down the 
 street. He had reached the corner just as the 
 electric lights had gone out a way they have of 
 doing on stormy nights, the reason for which 
 few men ever knew, and those few have for- 
 gotten. 
 
 If, however, he were waiting for a car, he was 
 disappointed: in the distance, the faint light of 
 an electric gleamed through the moisture; but it 
 was receding, as is the habit of street convey- 
 ances. 
 
 "A beastly night," he repeated with the same 
 easy nonchalance and as though it were the pleas- 
 antest of evenings. " So much the better," he 
 went on in the same happy frame of mind; never- 
 theless, he drew his coat the closer about him and 
 turned up the collar; then, removing his opera- 
 
 ioa
 
 A PECULIAR COMBINATION 103 
 
 hat, he shook the rain from it and replaced it 
 upon his head. 
 
 But, although the storm continued with una- 
 bated force, he did not seek shelter, but still stood 
 upon the corner, for some four or five minutes, 
 glancing repeatedly up and down the cross-streets, 
 peering into the darkness to see what he could 
 see, and thrusting his head forward and to one 
 side to hear what he could hear; but he saw noth- 
 ing and heard nothing; and, finally thrusting his 
 hand into the depths of his long coat, he half- 
 pulled out a watch. 
 
 He did not look at it for two reasons: first, 
 because the rain might have ruined it; second, be- 
 cause it was too dark to see; instead, he pressed 
 a small spring. It was a repeater, and it struck 
 the hour. 
 
 " Quarter to one," he remarked softly to him- 
 self; " I'm just in time." Presently he continued: 
 " That's a good watch one of the best, I'll 
 wager, in the old man's stock, and a first-class 
 stock he carries, too, or did up to night before 
 last." 
 
 He laughed noiselessly to himself, and then, 
 with an upward glance at the corner building, he
 
 io 4 THE CATSPAW 
 
 moved over towards it, as though seeking shelter 
 from the storm. 
 
 It was a bank one of the old-fashioned kind, 
 with a high corner stoop covered by the conven- 
 tional species of portico. 
 
 Another man would have ascended this stoop 
 and taken his stand under the portico, which fur- 
 nished ample protection from the wet; but not so 
 this man; instead, with unheard footsteps, he 
 moved halfway down the length of the bank on 
 the side street and paused in front of a ground- 
 floor window. There were six windows on that 
 side. He selected the third one after examining 
 it with care. 
 
 As was the case with all the others, this win- 
 dow was barred with iron bars. They also were 
 old-fashioned, somewhat wide apart, and ran from 
 top to bottom with no supporting plate be- 
 tween. 
 
 Having completed his investigation, the man in 
 the long coat straightened up and stood with his 
 back to the window, and once more looked about 
 him. It was a bad place to stand : the water from 
 the roof poured down in a steady stream upon his 
 head. He never heeded it, however, and, after
 
 A PECULIAR COMBINATION 105 
 
 looking and listening for another instant, he 
 merely wrapped a long scarf about his neck 
 and drew his coat still more closely around 
 him, and then stooped down only to straighten 
 up again almost instantly, and with one heel 
 he proceeded to tap-tap-tap upon the flag be- 
 neath; and, as he tapped, a rasping, grating 
 sound that came from behind him reached his 
 ears. 
 
 " Great Scott ! " he exclaimed. " What a boon 
 these new automatic heel machines have come 
 to be! The man that makes them deserves 
 a place along with the inventor of the type- 
 writer, the sewing-machine, and the cotton-gin. 
 They do the business in no time, and do it 
 well." 
 
 Suddenly there was a sharp, whirring sound, and 
 then a loud snap. 
 
 " Number one ! " he murmured, and again he 
 stooped and made another adjustment. 
 
 Having done this, he once more examined the 
 window and the bars; and, as he did so, a small 
 gleam of light, that came from a tiny incandescent 
 lamp held in the hollow of his palm, played 
 around the bottom of one of the long bars an
 
 I0 6 THE CATSPAW 
 
 inspection that seemed highly satisfactory, 
 for immediately he resumed his tap-tap-tap- 
 ping. 
 
 In a little while there was another whir and 
 
 another snap. 
 
 " Number two," he remarked in a tone of de- 
 light. 
 
 But scarcely had the words left his lips than, 
 indistinctly upon the heavy moist air, came the 
 steady tramp-tramp of a man around the corner; 
 he immediately sprang aside with: 
 
 " Great Heavens ! What's that? " 
 
 An instant more and the man in the long coat 
 took from his pocket a small piece of putty, filling 
 the filed crevices with it; then, with a diminutive 
 pepper-shaker, he dusted the edges with fine lead- 
 pencil scrapings to restore to them a metallic ap- 
 pearance ; finally he blew away the iron filings and 
 noiselessly disappeared. 
 
 The watchman for it was he came around 
 the corner, tried the front door, then flashed his 
 light in turn into and upon each window. All was 
 well. He stood for a moment, glancing up and 
 down, swore under his breath at the rain and 
 the mud, shook his stick energetically at the motor-
 
 A PECULIAR COMBINATION 107 
 
 man of a trolley-car that thundered by, and then 
 passed on. 
 
 Two minutes later the man in the long coat 
 was back at his post, and the rasping sound began 
 again. At the end of twenty minutes he breathed 
 a sigh of relief. 
 
 "Number four!" at last he was able to an- 
 nounce to himself. 
 
 He had cut two bars completely through, both 
 at the top and at the bottom, which he quietly 
 removed and gently laid down upon the pave- 
 ment. 
 
 The window also was an old-fashioned one, 
 consisting of two sashes, with a middle catch. It 
 would have been a simple thing to force the catch, 
 but this man knew better. Holding his body 
 as a shield against the framework, he flashed 
 his light along each edge and particularly 
 along the middle and then cut two small 
 holes in the glass, and, inserting an instrument, 
 cut a number of wires that ran around the 
 sash. 
 
 "Blamed idiots!" he muttered to himself. 
 " These people leave their wires in plain sight. 
 This is a cinch ! "
 
 io8 THE CATSPAW 
 
 And now, having cut the wire, the rest was easy. 
 He slipped the catch, raised the lower sash, and 
 entered. From the inside he carefully replaced 
 the bars in their former position, wedging them 
 tight with small steel discs, filled the spaces with 
 putty, and dusted them as before. Then he in- 
 serted the circular discs of glass where they be- 
 longed, dipped a brush in a small vial, and ap- 
 plied to the cut edges some Canada balsam a 
 thick, oozing, colourless liquid, possessing the same 
 degree of refraction as does glass itself, and ca- 
 pable of uniting two pieces of glass together so 
 that the point of contact is well-nigh indistin- 
 guishable. 
 
 It is impossible to describe the deftness or the 
 skill with which the man worked and he worked 
 so that there were absolutely no traces of the job 
 he left behind him. 
 
 However, he had just closed the window and 
 fastened it when he was once more startled by a 
 bright light which entered the room. 
 
 In an instant he realised that it had not yet 
 lighted upon himself, and he threw himself face 
 down upon the floor next to the wall, where he 
 waited without a sound, scarcely breathing until
 
 A PECULIAR COMBINATION 109 
 
 he heard the steady tramp-tramp of footsteps re- 
 ceding in the distance. 
 
 It was a policeman who had flashed his light 
 upon the window; but he had seen nothing noth- 
 ing except the regulation iron bars and a window- 
 pane with heavy drops of rain trickling and ooz- 
 ing down it. 
 
 The man of the long coat jumped to his feet, 
 and said somewhat calmly: 
 
 " That was a narrow escape almost too nar- 
 row." He peered uncertainly about him for a 
 moment, and then he added : " Now for the 
 vault!" 
 
 Once more he struck his repeater; it was exactly 
 two o'clock. The policeman, who was not regu- 
 lar, had just gone. But it was time for the watch- 
 man again. He was compelled to wait for some 
 time, for the outer door of the vault was illu- 
 minated by the rays of an electric lamp, and was 
 visible from the small hole in the outer door of 
 the bank. 
 
 The tramp-tramp had died away. And step- 
 ping boldly now into the full glare of this lamp, 
 keeping his back the while toward the outer door, 
 it revealed a tall, broad-shouldered, handsome
 
 no THE CATSPAW 
 
 young man with a conventional but very becoming 
 Vandyke beard, faultlessly attired in evening 
 dress. He wasted no time, however, but pro- 
 ceeded at once to kneel down, grasping the handle 
 of the combination lock. This, in keeping with 
 every other thing about the bank, was also of a 
 bygone age. It was one that worked upon the 
 letters of the alphabet. 
 
 Slowly he turned the handle of the lock, placed 
 his ear to the safe just outside the circle of letters, 
 and listened to the clink, clink of the pieces of 
 metal falling into place. 
 
 " ' H ' it is then," he mused to himself as he 
 heard the first piece fall unmistakably into its 
 proper place. " K-I-T-T a blame long-winded 
 combination they've got, too," he complained. 
 
 All of a sudden he started to his feet, exclaim- 
 ing: 
 
 "What's this?" 
 
 But he kept turning on and on until presently, 
 with a firm grasp, he turned back the knob with 
 a sharp click; then, stepping to one side, swung 
 open the door. 
 
 "Well, I'll be hanged!" he cried. "The 
 nerve of these people ..."
 
 A PECULIAR COMBINATION in 
 
 He smiled, shut the door again, twirled the lock 
 to throw it off once more, and then, rapidly turn- 
 ing and returning it to letter after letter without 
 the slightest hesitation or difficulty, clicked it back 
 once again, and a second time swung the big door 
 open. The letters to which he had turned, and 
 which constituted the bank's combination for the 
 safe, were the following eleven letters of the 
 alphabet: H-K-I-T-T-S-T-J-O-H-N. 
 
 " And this," he continued with a genteel bow 
 to the contents of the safe, " is what it is to be 
 the best-known man-about-town." 
 
 " Well," he finally admitted to himself, " they 
 have the right to use a depositor's or any other 
 name they please, though the one they've selected 
 is a deuced long one. Not a bad idea, though! 
 By the way," he went on, pulling down a book 
 marked " Ledger," 4 ' while we're about it, we'll 
 figure up H. Kittredge's balance in this bank. I'd 
 forgotten almost that there was one here." 
 
 It was a few hundred dollars only ; he replaced 
 the book. 
 
 "Now for business," he resumed; and pro- 
 ceeded to force every door and drawer in the 
 vault.
 
 ii2 THE CATSPAW 
 
 But only in one did he find what he was after. 
 It contained six bulky packages of bills. He laid 
 them on the floor outside the vault, and then once 
 more hastily inspected the interior. There was 
 nothing else worth while. 
 
 " This is a great business for Kittredge St. 
 John," he remarked, laughing a low, musical 
 laugh. " A depositor, by the mere use of his own 
 name, which he happens to know how to spell, 
 walks into his banker's vault and robs his banker 
 and incidentally himself! Still," he added, 
 " I'll not lose even the few hundred, for the bank 
 can stand this loss, and if they don't pay me my 
 account I'll by George, I'll sue them! I'm just 
 the man to . . . " He broke off abruptly with : 
 "Good Heavens! what's that?" 
 
 However, he did not have to wait long for an 
 answer; the next instant the steady repeated clang 
 of a night-stick upon the pavement the rap not 
 of a roundsman, but of an officer calling for help 
 greeted his ears. That it was meant for him 
 there was no doubt in his mind ; and he fell to up- 
 braiding himself for having been over-confident, 
 while he hastily donned his hat and coat, picked 
 up his tools, thrusting the packages of bills into
 
 A PECULIAR COMBINATION 113 
 
 the deep pockets of his coat, and then noiselessly 
 stepped through the shadow to the front of the 
 bank. 
 
 Looking out he saw that the coast was clear 
 temporarily at least, for the raps had ceased. 
 
 " The front door," he muttered. " I'll try the 
 front door and make a dash for it it's the best 
 chance. . . . I'll have four ways to run I'll try 
 that first." 
 
 He stepped to the inner door; it took him some 
 time to get it open, and the process was some- 
 what noisy, although the chances were that no 
 one outside could hear him. The bolts slid 
 clumsily; his skeleton keys effected the rest. And 
 now drawing back the door he fastened it open 
 and stepped into the vestibule, where he stood for 
 a moment, listening; but there was no sound from 
 without; then, noiselessly, he drew back the iron 
 bolts, unlocked the locks, suddenly but cautiously 
 pulled back one of the ponderous sheet-iron por- 
 tals, and stepped out upon the platform of the 
 outside steps. 
 
 "The devil!" he muttered underneath his 
 breath. For there below upon the pavement, mo- 
 tionless as marble, but silent and alert, stood two
 
 ii 4 THE CATSPAW 
 
 policemen looking at him as he stepped out into 
 v j ew two policemen, each with a cocked revolver 
 in his hand. 
 
 For the moment, too startled to speak, he stood 
 stock-still and held his breath; then he did what 
 now seemed to be the only thing to do : in the full 
 glare of the lanterns and in the face of the guns, 
 he sauntered slowly down the steps and nodded to 
 the two policemen. 
 
 " Officers," he said somewhat sharply, " it looks 
 to me as though a robbery had been committed." 
 
 " It looks that way to us," one of them remarked 
 grimly. 
 
 The man in the tall hat drew forth a cigar-case 
 and lit a cigar lighted it while one officer had a 
 hand upon his shoulder, and yet so unconcerned 
 was he that the hand that held the match never 
 trembled for an instant. 
 
 ' Yes," he went on with quiet persistence, " I 
 believe somebody has robbed the bank, and I'll 
 tell you why I think so. As I strolled past I saw 
 this door open slowly on a crack. Being a director 
 in the bank . . . " He paused and blew a cloud 
 of smoke into the dampness of the night. 
 
 " Being a what? " demanded the officer.
 
 A PECULIAR COMBINATION 115 
 
 " A director," went on the other, " I felt some- 
 what interested. I sauntered up, pushed this door 
 open, and was about to push the inside door open, 
 for that, although it refused to yield, I am sure 
 is also unlocked. I fancied I heard noises in the 
 bank, but I am not armed, and, to tell the truth, 
 I'm something of a coward. Then I heard you, 
 and stepped back into the glare of your lanterns. 
 Hadn't we better make an investigation at once ? " 
 he wound up glibly. 
 
 " I should think we had," answered Burke, a 
 plain-clothes man. For, although he had seen St. 
 John many times and knew him as a man-about- 
 town, yet the facts as represented to him made him 
 suspicious. However, St. John's idea was the cor- 
 rect one, so together the three men pushed open 
 the doors and entered the bank. 
 
 At a glance the officers were satisfied that there 
 had been a robbery that some clever cracksman 
 had made a haul. At the end of fifteen minutes, 
 which they spent in examining the evidence that 
 lay before them, Burke announced: 
 
 " I guess we all three had better go back to 
 headquarters." 
 
 " I don't know about that," answered his
 
 n6 THE CATSPAW 
 
 brother officer; " perhaps you'd better go and I'll 
 wait ..." 
 
 " A good idea," broke in St. John. " A thief 
 may yet be lurking in the bank. Shall I wait here, 
 or shall I go back to headquarters? " 
 
 Burke glanced with uncertainty at O'Connell, 
 who nodded to the other. 
 
 "Of course, Mr. St. John," said O'Connell, 
 " we have no doubt that what you say is true about 
 your being interested in the bank, but at the same 
 time we got to do our duty. We saw you coming 
 out, and the bank's been robbed; I think I may 
 as well say to you that you can consider yourself 
 under arrest." 
 
 St. John was visibly annoyed, but, quickly re- 
 covering himself, he answered: 
 
 " I think, officers, that you are doing the only 
 proper thing, and I shall be very glad to place 
 myself in your hands." 
 
 ' You won't hold any hard feelings if we've 
 made a mistake; will you, Mr. St. John?" asked 
 O'Connell, somewhat apologetically. 
 
 St. John drew forth his cigar-case once again. 
 
 '' To show you that there is no hard feel- 
 ing, and that there will be none," he returned,
 
 A PECULIAR COMBINATION 117 
 
 " allow me to induce you to smoke the pipe of 
 peace." 
 
 The officers gasped with extraordinary pleas- 
 ure : they were not accustomed to smoke fifty-cent 
 cigars, and each, accordingly, grasped the tinfoil- 
 covered luxury with an eager hand, each un- 
 wrapped the tinfoil and dropped it to the floor, 
 each bit a piece off the end of his cigar, accepting 
 Kittredge's proffer of a light, then, leaving O'Con- 
 nell in the bank, the other two proceeded down 
 the street. 
 
 " Would you mind, Mr. St. John," said Burke 
 confidentially, " if I took a strangle hold of your 
 right arm? Business is business, no matter how 
 friendly it may be." 
 
 " My dear man, you can put the handcuffs on 
 me if you want to. I want you to do your duty, 
 and nobody is likely to see us on a night like 
 this." 
 
 But Burke did not inflict a severer method upon 
 his captive, and, side by side, they trailed along 
 through the darkness. For a while they puffed in 
 silence, Burke the while casting an occasional glance 
 of gratefulness toward the man beside him. 
 
 " This is the bulliest smoke I ever had ..."
 
 n8 THE CATSPAW 
 
 he began, and then suddenly stopped, released his 
 grip upon his captive, and Burke, the astute po- 
 lice officer, one of the shining lights of the force, 
 slumped heavily down upon the sidewalk, and fell 
 heavily asleep. 
 
 St. John smiled, retraced his steps to the pri- 
 vate bank, and pushed open the door. 
 
 " Two of a kind," he whispered softly to him- 
 self, with considerable inward satisfaction, for 
 there, half-sprawled across the desk in a corner 
 of a room, lay Officer O'Connell, sleeping the sleep 
 of the just. 
 
 It was half-past three that morning when a man 
 wearing a long coat and an opera-hat returned to 
 the Elberon and noiselessly ascended to his room 
 a suite on the second floor. 
 
 His light was burning just as he had left it. 
 Outside it was raining still. He was wet. Re- 
 moving his hat, he hung that and his coat upon 
 a chair to drain and dry. He then took off his 
 dress coat, lit a cigar, and sat down in an easy 
 chair or rather threw himself upon it. 
 
 " Jove, but I'm tired ! " he exclaimed wearily. 
 
 There was a slight noise, and he started and
 
 A PECULIAR COMBINATION 119 
 
 peered into another room. Somewhere in the dark 
 a door opened and a man's voice spoke :- 
 
 "It's you, is it?" 
 
 " Oh," replied the man in the easy-chair, " I 
 didn't know that you would be here." 
 
 He sank back with an air of relief. 
 
 " I thought it best," returned the voice, " at 
 least to-night. It was so wet. You have been at 
 the club?" 
 
 " At the club," assented the man in the easy- 
 chair, " all night and half the morning." 
 
 The man in the dark laughed in an odd sort 
 of way. 
 
 " Good ! " he responded. " Who was there ? " 
 
 The man in the light half-groaned, half-sighed 
 with weariness. He was tired. 
 
 44 I'll tell you to-morrow morning all about it. 
 I'm too tired now," he replied, rising and turning 
 the stem of the incandescent lamp. 
 
 Then he, too, became a man in the dark; the 
 voices were stilled; and the day began to break.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE ADVANTAGES OF PLAYING POKER 
 
 IT was No. 46 on the Oyer and Terminer calen- 
 dar the State, etc., versus H. Kittredge St. John. 
 
 The charge was breaking and entering and the 
 robbery of sixty-odd thousand dollars from the 
 vaults of the private bank of C. W. Mordaunt 
 &Co. 
 
 H. Kittredge St. John, the defendant, was a 
 society man, a club man, and generally a well- 
 known and popular man-about-town, and his ar- 
 rest was considered more or less preposterous. In 
 fact, the newspapers had heaped no end of abuse 
 and calumny upon the police department and its 
 officers; everybody, including Kittredge St. John, 
 considering the affair in the light of a huge joke. 
 
 H. Kittredge St. John was not a stranger in the 
 place. True, he had lived there but a short time, 
 but he had come to town loaded with the best 
 of recommendations and letters of introduction 
 from large Eastern cities ; moreover, he had made 
 his advent with his pockets, so to speak, full of 
 
 1 20
 
 ADVANTAGES OF PLAYING POKER 121 
 
 money. A gentleman of leisure, single and attract- 
 ive, he became a social lion, his popularity being 
 not only with the men but likewise with the women. 
 
 At first, St. John had held himself aloof, mak- 
 ing no attempt whatsoever to force himself into 
 any circle, with the result that, within a short 
 period of time, he was being sought after by the 
 most exclusive people in the town. 
 
 He paid his bills and rarely asked for credit. 
 When he did so, it was purely as a matter of busi- 
 ness, and he always settled on the due date, never 
 earlier or later. 
 
 Many a mother with marriageable daughters 
 had courted St. John with assiduity and perse- 
 verance, for they recognised in him a bon parti; 
 but without success: for St. John avoided en- 
 tangling alliances of any kind at least, he had 
 done so thus far. 
 
 To all men he was the same courtly gentle- 
 man; and whatever of mystery had attended his 
 advent was dispelled as time went on; and now 
 Kittredge St. John was a much better known man 
 than many an old-time resident of the place. It 
 was small wonder, therefore, that the town pooh- 
 poohed the charge upon which he was being tried.
 
 122 THE CATSPAW 
 
 The courtroom was overcrowded with the 
 beauty and the chivalry, the wealth and the aris- 
 tocracy of the place. 
 
 Kittredge, his counsel next to him, sat at one 
 of the tables inside of the railing, facing the jury, 
 but, as he did so, he kept his eyes roving back 
 and forth among the crowd until the trial began, 
 apparently seeking some familiar face in the audi- 
 ence; and, having found it, he contented himself 
 with merely raising his eyebrows significantly. If, 
 however, at these times, he was seeking the face 
 of Miss Dorothy Paget, he was disappointed. She 
 was not there, nor, in fact, were many of the more 
 exclusive set. 
 
 Burke a plain-clothes man was the first wit- 
 ness to be called; he had just been sworn. 
 
 The prosecutor leaned against the railing in an 
 easy, careless manner. Burke looked first at the 
 jury and then at the prosecutor. 
 
 " Shall I tell my story, sir? " he said. 
 
 'Yes, Burke, tell your story," assented the 
 other. 
 
 The witness turned to the jury and began : 
 " It was on the 23d of last month I was or- 
 dered downtown on special duty. It don't make
 
 ADVANTAGES OF PLAYING POKER 123 
 
 no difference where I was it was the night o' that 
 Anarchist row in the hall up there. I got through 
 at ten minutes after one. It was a bad night 
 buckets full of rain an' a hurricane to back it up. 
 It was fierce! An' dark as pitch, too half the 
 lights were out. I had to walk from Man- 
 ning's Hall up there, 'way 'cross the town, 
 an' I had to get back to headquarters an' 
 report." 
 
 " Well, now, Burke," interrupted the District- 
 Attorney, " tell us just what happened, and talk a 
 bit more slowly." 
 
 Burke nodded; he continued: 
 
 " Well, I'd reached about Monroe an' Lafa- 
 yette streets, when I heard the sound of a night- 
 stick somewheres in the vicinity. I knew by the 
 sound that it was a roundsman, an' I stopped to 
 locate it. Immediately I set out on a dead run for 
 the place. About two blocks away I run into Offi- 
 cer O'Connell he wasn't rappin' then, of course, 
 'cause I suppose he'd heard me comin'. I knew 
 somethin' was up, for he was long past due at that 
 place at that time ..." 
 
 "Is he here?" interrupted the District- 
 Attorney.
 
 i2 4 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " He is, sir," continued the witness; " there he 
 sits, sir. Well, O'Connell, he says to me . . . " 
 
 The counsel for the defence sprang to his feet 
 and interposed with: 
 
 "Never mind what O'Connell said." 
 
 The witness snorted and began again. 
 
 " In consequence of a conversation I had with 
 O'Connell at that corner ..." 
 
 "Now, at what corner?" demanded the pris- 
 oner's counsel impatiently. 
 
 " The corner o' Washington an' Monroe," re- 
 turned the witness. " If you'll give me time I'll 
 tell you all there is to tell. At the corner o' Wash- 
 ington an' Monroe me an' O'Connell had a con- 
 versation, an' in consequence o' that I went with 
 him to the next corner Washington Avenue and 
 First Street. That's what I did, sir." 
 
 "Well, what did you find there?" asked the 
 District-Attorney. "Go on." 
 
 " I found on the southwest corner the Mor- 
 daunt Bank, sir. An' O'Connell told me . . ." 
 
 The prisoner's counsel again jumped to his feet. 
 
 " What did you do, Burke? " inquired the Dis- 
 trict-Attorney. " Tell us what you did." 
 
 " Well, replied Burke uncertainly, " I didn't
 
 ADVANTAGES OF PLAYING POKER 125 
 
 do nothin' just then. I went up on the stoop and 
 looked through the little hole in the outside doors, 
 an' I did not see but that everything looked all 
 right, an' I told O'Connell that is to say, sir," 
 he corrected hastily, " I stayed there with O'Con- 
 nell for a time about ten minutes, I should say. 
 An' here's where the queer thing happened, gentle- 
 men. Me an' O'Connell," he went on, warming 
 up now that he had reached the interesting stage, 
 " was just startin' in to reconnoitre when we heard 
 a big racket at the front door it's on the corner, 
 eater-cornered like. It was the vestibule inside 
 door he tackled first, o' course, 'n' we heard some 
 bolts shoot back; 'n' then, all of a sudden, some- 
 thing snaps very quick an' loud, an' the big iron 
 doors opens out and a fellow comes down the 
 front steps. He didn't come down right away, 
 either, for he saw us there. We feazed him a bit, 
 I guess 1 
 
 " As I said, it was dark an' rainin' pitch-forks, 
 but we could see this fellow come down all right, 
 me an' O'Connell, an' we both snapped our lan- 
 terns on him at the same time; so we had him in 
 a light that was double strength. The fellow had 
 on a high hat one o' them dull-lookin' things, not
 
 126 THE CATSPAW 
 
 a regular stove-pipe an' full dress we could see 
 just a bit o' his shirt an' a long overcoat. Them's 
 the first things we noticed; an', if he hadn't turned 
 around when the light flashed on him, we'd a 
 nabbed him then an' there ; but he did turn around 
 an' looked at us an' you could a knocked us both 
 down with a feather, me an' O'Connell, for we 
 knew the man well, both of us did. 
 
 " Well, to make a long story short, while we 
 were both standin' there, pretty near paralysed 
 an' both of us with guns, the fellow turned an' 
 made for it, an' us after him, me an' O'Connell. 
 We'd a caught him all right but for its bein' such 
 a night but it was so dark and windy we couldn't 
 track him by sight or by sound, so finally we lost 
 him an' gave it up for good. 
 
 " We came back to the bank, an' I stayed there 
 while O'Connell went for young Mr. Mordaunt, 
 an' he dressed himself an' come, an' we found that 
 everything had been smashed open an' sixty thou- 
 sand odd dollars an' cents was gone clean." 
 
 "Did you find anything else?" questioned the 
 prosecutor. 
 
 "Not that night," responded Burke; "but the 
 next day we found that one o' the side windows
 
 ADVANTAGES OF PLAYING POKER 127 
 
 had been entered : the bars were sawed clean apart 
 an' stuck together again with some kind o' stuff; 
 an' the window-pane had been cut an' forced, an' 
 the piece that he'd cut out he'd pasted on again. 
 That's the reason we didn't find it that night. It 
 was done too clever." 
 
 "And did you recognise the man?" inquired 
 the District-Attorney. 
 
 " I did, sir," answered the witness; " an' so did 
 O'Connell. We both knew him ..." 
 
 The District-Attorney visibly trembled with ex- 
 citement. He asked: 
 
 "Who was it, Burke?" 
 
 Burke bent his gaze upon the man at the next 
 table, pointing with his finger as he spoke : 
 
 " It was Kittredge St. John, the man that sits 
 at that table, sir." 
 
 There was an audible murmur in the court-room, 
 which had been as still as death. 
 
 " The prisoner? " continued the prosecutor. 
 
 "The prisoner, yes, sir," assented Burke. "I 
 knew him well by sight, sir," he added. " It's the 
 same man I can swear to that." 
 
 " Cross-examine," said the State's Attorney 
 briefly.
 
 128 THE CATSPAW 
 
 The counsel for the defence rose with a smile 
 upon his face. 
 
 " Mr. Burke," he began in a suave voice, " you 
 have seen Mr. St. John since that night ; have you 
 not?" 
 
 " Yes, sir," replied Burke. 
 
 " You know where he lives? " 
 
 " I didn't then," replied Burke; " we can't keep 
 track o' everybody from headquarters, but I do 
 now. He lives at the Elberon." 
 
 " And you attended there next day, did you not, 
 for the purpose of apprehending him? " 
 
 "I did, sir." 
 
 " And at that time is it not a fact that you 
 made a careful search of his apartments in the 
 Elberon for the purpose of finding something to 
 connect him with the crime?" 
 
 " It is, sir." 
 
 " And did you find anything calculated to arouse 
 suspicion?" went on the prisoner's counsel. 
 
 " I did not, sir," replied Burke. 
 
 11 That's all," announced the counsel for the 
 defence. 
 
 "Wait a minute! " exclaimed the judge as the 
 witness started to leave the witness-stand.
 
 ADVANTAGES OF PLAYING POKER 129 
 
 " Burke, are you sure of what you say? Isn't it 
 possible that you may have been mistaken? This 
 is a serious matter, officer you must be very care- 
 ful. You're sure this is the man ? " 
 
 " Your Honour," returned Burke doggedly, 
 " my record shows that I'm a careful man your 
 Honour knows I am. An' I say in this thing I 
 can't be mistaken. I was never surer of a thing 
 in all my life, an' I swear that the man who sits 
 there, Kittredge St. John, is the man that robbed 
 the bank that night, so help me God! " 
 
 "One moment," put in the prisoner's counsel; 
 " what day of the week was that, did you say? " 
 
 " I didn't say, sir, but it was two o'clock on 
 Wednesday morning, the 23d o' last month. 
 Roundsman O'Connell," continued the witness, 
 turning to the judge, " will tell you just the same 
 as I have, your Honour." 
 
 Burke stepped down. 
 
 O'Connell took the witness-stand and gave his 
 testimony and left it. Burke stood corroborated 
 in each detail. There was no cross-examination of 
 this witness. 
 
 " The prosecution rests," announced the coun- 
 sel for the state.
 
 i 3 o THE CATSPAW 
 
 The prisoner's attorney now rose. A flickering 
 ghost of a smile played around the corner of his 
 mouth. He departed from the usual rule, making 
 no opening statement to the jury. 
 
 "I'll call the sheriff of the county," he an- 
 nounced. 
 
 The sheriff a stout, good-natured-looking man, 
 with a broad, genial, honest face had been 
 seated quietly in the body of the courtroom out- 
 side the railing, an unnoticed spectator. He rose, 
 and, with some difficulty, made his way through 
 the crowd, nodding as he went to the judge, the 
 counsel, and some of the jurymen. He did not 
 look at St. John, nor did St. John look at him. 
 
 He took the stand and was sworn, and then, set- 
 tling himself comfortably in the chair, threw one 
 leg over the other, and waited for the question. 
 
 " Sheriff," began the counsel for the defence 
 carelessly, " would you mind stating to the jury 
 just where you were at two o'clock Wednesday 
 morning on the 23d ultimo? " 
 
 The Sheriff looked around and smiled. 
 
 " On Monday night, on Tuesday night, and on 
 Wednesday night, the 2ist, 22d, and 23d of last 
 month," he replied deliberately and with an evi-
 
 Kittredge St. John
 
 ADVANTAGES OF PLAYING POKER 131 
 
 dent relish of the situation, " I was in the card- 
 room of the Iroquois Club on each night from ten 
 o'clock in the evening until after three o'clock the 
 next morning." 
 
 " When you say Wednesday night, do you mean 
 night or morning? " 
 
 " I'll explain that," said the sheriff. " When 
 I say Monday night, I mean that I began Monday 
 night at ten and ended Tuesday morning at three; 
 on Tuesday night I began at ten and ended 
 Wednesday morning at three, and so on. I was 
 there three nights and mornings, beginning with 
 Monday night." 
 
 " Will you state just what you were doing? " 
 
 " Certainly," responded the witness. " We were 
 playing poker disposing of some old scores that 
 we had waited for several weeks to pay off." 
 
 "Was anybody with you? If so, state to the 
 jury just who it was." 
 
 " Yes," returned the sheriff, leaning forward in 
 his turn, as all witnesses have a way of doing; 
 " there were three people with me, making four 
 altogether; three of us played each night, and the 
 fourth man looked on and kept us company." 
 
 " And these four .
 
 i 3 2 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " These four," continued the sheriff, " were my- 
 self and John R. Montgomery and H. Kittredge 
 St. John, the prisoner at the bar." 
 
 "John R. Montgomery is here?" 
 
 " He's here," assented the witness. 
 
 " And the fourth man who was he? " inquired 
 the attorney. 
 
 The sheriff was plainly embarrassed, but he 
 nerved himself, nevertheless, for the ordeal. 
 
 " The fourth man," he began, looking nerv- 
 ously around, " the fourth man was the the judge 
 presiding at this trial." 
 
 There was a prolonged titter in the courtroom 
 at the judge's expense. The judge rapped for or- 
 der, but, at the same time, nodded in a dignified 
 way in confirmation of the testimony. 
 
 "Was the prisoner there on each occasion?" 
 resumed the counsel. 
 
 " He was." 
 I "Every night?" 
 
 " Every night," replied the sheriff. " He was 
 the first man on hand, and the last man to leave. 
 He was with us all the time." 
 
 " How far is the Iroquois Club from the Mor- 
 daunt Bank?"
 
 ADVANTAGES OF PLAYING POKER 133 
 
 " A good three miles, I should say," replied 
 the sheriff." 
 
 " Take the witness," concluded the counsel for 
 the defence, settling back in his seat, satisfaction 
 written all over his face. 
 
 The District-Attorney rose with a frown. 
 There was a loud buzz of conversation in the 
 courtroom, which his Honour stopped with a 
 few raps of his gavel upon the desk. The 
 District-Attorney was plainly nonplussed, and 
 he showed it. 
 
 " Sheriff," inquired he, looking that individual 
 squarely in the eye, " how do you fix the night of 
 the 22d or the morning of the 23d? By the 
 way, which was it? " 
 
 " Both," replied the sheriff laconically. 
 
 " Well, how do you fix it, then? Why do you 
 remember it ? " 
 
 The sheriff returned the District-Attorney's 
 stare with interest. 
 
 " I'll tell you how I fix it," said the sheriff, 
 shaking his finger at the examiner. " I could fix 
 it anyway by other things, but I know by one thing 
 in particular. When I got there that night there 
 were two men ahead of me: one of 'em was St.
 
 i 3 4 THE CATSPAW 
 
 John; the other Montgomery. It was a few min- 
 utes after ten when we started in, because they said 
 I was late, and I said I wasn't; but it was after- 
 ward proven that my watch was about ten min- 
 utes slow. 
 
 "Now we started in to play, understand; and 
 when you're playing poker at the Iroquois time 
 flies like the dickens. We've "got a ticker-tape up 
 there in the card-room, and it runs all night as well 
 as all day. The telegraph people here run it. 
 Well, the news of this very robbery came over 
 the ticker while we were sitting there Kittredge 
 and the rest of us about half-past two in the 
 morning. Kittredge sat next to me, and I said to 
 him when the news came over the wire : ' Kitt- 
 redge,' said I, ' Mordaunt's safe has been cracked 
 and there's a pile of money gone.' And, then and 
 there, I called up headquarters and we found out 
 all about it. That's how it was and that's how I 
 know. And his Honour can tell you just what I 
 tell you, too. 
 
 " What is more," concluded the sheriff officially 
 and for the benefit of the reporters who were tak- 
 ing down his testimony, " I want to tell you, coun- 
 sellor, that the county detectives would never have
 
 ADVANTAGES OF PLAYING POKER 135 
 
 made a bull like this either, and don't you forget 
 it never in God's world." 
 
 The sheriff stepped down, and John R. Mont- 
 gomery stepped up. His testimony was identical 
 in substance with that of the sheriff. It was the 
 purpose of the prisoner's counsel to call the pris- 
 oner, but, just as he was about to do so, the pris- 
 oner plucked him by the sleeve. 
 
 After a short conference, the attorney for the 
 defence announced that the defence closed its case. 
 
 The judge's charge was short and formal in the 
 extreme. At the close of it the jury, although in- 
 vited to retire, declined to do so, and, without 
 stepping from the jury-box, returned a verdict of 
 " Not Guilty." 
 
 The crowd lined up close to St. John, shower- 
 ing upon him congratulations, even insisting upon 
 shaking him by the hand; but all the while St. 
 John's eye was fixed wistfully upon the exit; for 
 some reason he was anxious to get away. Thank- 
 ing his counsel briefly, together with his witnesses, 
 he then hurriedly made his way through the court- 
 room and finally reached the open air. But there 
 still clung to him a little bevy of men and women 
 friends and acquaintances, who had been in the
 
 136 THE CATSPAW 
 
 courtroom. Suddenly his gaze wandered down the 
 street. 
 
 " There there is somebody I want to see ! " 
 he exclaimed; but it was merely an excuse to get 
 away. Presently he met Officer O'Connell and 
 Burke the plain-clothes man, upon whom he 
 smiled in a way that was almost childlike and 
 bland. They returned his salutation with curt 
 nods of the head. 
 
 " Well, Jim," said O'Connell to Burke, as St. 
 John left them far in the rear, " what d'ye make 
 of it, anyway? " 
 
 " Billy," returned Burke solemnly, " I don't 
 know what to make of it. The only solution I've 
 arrived at is that the devil must have been stringin' 
 us that night." 
 
 O'Connell shook his head. " Well, no more of 
 them Iroquois Club cigars for me," he said.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 SHADOWED 
 
 ALL the way down the street St. John continued 
 to meet his over-enthusiastic friends ; but, by means 
 of one pretext and another, he succeeded in eluding 
 them. Finally, arriving at the Elberon, his bach- 
 elor-apartment home, he stood glancing hastily up 
 and down the street to make sure that no one saw 
 him, then quickly unlocking the door he stepped 
 inside, and noiselessly ascended to the second-floor 
 apartment. 
 
 " Nobody here," he remarked with a sigh of 
 relief, as he passed hastily through room after 
 room; and immediately seating himself at a desk, 
 began to write, as follows: 
 
 MY DEAR Miss PAGET: 
 
 It seems better to address you so for the present. There 
 are certain things to which I prefer to refer by letter alone. 
 
 You will recall that I wrote you on the 24th of last month, 
 requesting you to make no reference, in my presence or to 
 me, to anything which might have happened. That request 
 was not prompted by any desire to be spared humiliation 
 it was a part of the peculiar circumstances which have con- 
 stituted a part of my present life. 
 
 137
 
 i 3 8 THE CATSPAW 
 
 Now that I have been vindicated in your eyes and in the 
 eyes of the world, I ask you to make to me no reference to 
 to-day's happenings, nor to such vindication, nor, indeed, to 
 this letter or the other. 
 
 I have many good reasons for making this request, which 
 will appear later. I close with the expression of much 
 regard. 
 
 Sincerely, 
 
 H. KlTTREDGE St. JOHN. 
 
 U A bit formal, perhaps," continued St. John, 
 " but certainly imperative. This complication with 
 Miss Paget was certainly unlocked for, and 
 yet " he smiled to himself " not altogether un- 
 fortunate for me. I don't know, after all, but 
 what it is a good thing a very good thing." 
 
 He enclosed the missive in an envelope, ad- 
 dressed the latter, and sealed it carefully with wax, 
 upon which he impressed the seal ring which he 
 wore. 
 
 "There's plenty of time," he said, looking at 
 his watch; " I'll send this up by messenger." 
 
 Rising from his desk, he drew upon his head a 
 soft, felt hat, which partly covered his face, and 
 stole downstairs again. 
 
 The street was deserted almost, but not quite, 
 for at each end of the block lounged one man,
 
 SHADOWED 139 
 
 intent, apparently, upon the Elberon, but in real- 
 ity intent on Kittredge St. John. 
 
 11 Great Scott 1 " muttered St. John to himself. 
 " So soon again? " 
 
 He retraced his steps and re-entered the hall; 
 and, passing through to the rear of the apartment- 
 house, made his exit through an alleyway. Once 
 clear of the place, he hastened toward the centre 
 of the town and handed his message in at a local 
 delivery office with instruction to send it out at 
 once. 
 
 Meanwhile, one of the two men who had stood 
 outside sauntered up and accosted the other. 
 
 " Did you see him, Jim, when he stuck his head 
 outside?" 
 
 " He won't come out now till dark," was the 
 answer. " You see if he does." 
 
 " Well," returned the first man, " he saw us all 
 right, though he can't be sure just who we are, 
 since we're togged out in this way. We might 
 just as well stick together now for a while, any- 
 way." 
 
 Whereupon the other handed him a cigar, which 
 they both proceeded to light, gradually falling 
 into deep conversation.
 
 i 4 o THE CATSPAW 
 
 " Gee ! " suddenly exclaimed Burke, grasping 
 his companion by the arm. " He's given us the 
 slip after all." 
 
 " Went out the back way, I suppose, an' now 
 he's coming back as bold as brass," remarked the 
 other. 
 
 A moment more and the object of their remarks 
 disappeared within the house. He looked neither 
 to the right nor to the left. Most certainly he did 
 not see the plain-clothes men, or, if he did, he gave 
 no sign. 
 
 It was now fairly late in the afternoon. Burke 
 ordered his assistant to go around the corner and 
 'phone headquarters to send another man, ending 
 with : 
 
 " We got this fellow now where we want him, 
 an' it's a blame good thing he forgot somethin' 
 and had to come back. We'll camp on his trail; 
 we'll follow him no matter where he goes. 
 Stumpy, let me tell you," he went on. " I told it 
 in court, an' I say that there man is the man who 
 robbed that bank, an', by George, I'm goin' to 
 keep him in sight if it takes the whole force to 
 do it!" 
 
 The other man came up from headquarters.
 
 SHADOWED 141 
 
 " Say, Burke," he explained, " I saw your man 
 downtown. What're you doin' up here? " 
 
 " I know you did," replied Burke, " an' he came 
 back, an' he's in the Elberon over there, an' don't 
 you forgit it." 
 
 The other glanced at him doubtfully. 
 
 " Oh, that's it, is it ! " he returned. " I know 
 I saw him and wondered at the time where you 
 were." 
 
 Burke and the two men vanished into thin air. 
 Once more the street became deserted. Dusk had 
 come on; it was growing darker every moment. 
 At a quarter to eight, however, a man, clad in 
 evening clothes and a light overcoat emerged from 
 the apartment-house and sauntered down the street. 
 In front of a house with an English basement 
 stood an electric street-lamp. He passed this, and 
 the light shone full on his face. Reaching the cor- 
 ner, he glanced up and down and behind him for 
 an instant, and then, breaking into a fast walk, 
 made for the west end of the town. 
 
 He had no sooner done so than a man emerged 
 from the basement, another from an alleyway 
 across the street, and a third from a recess around 
 the corner.
 
 i 4 2 THE CATSPAW 
 
 Without the slightest recognition of each other, 
 they turned in and followed the man in the light 
 overcoat, each man in his own way. 
 
 Down at headquarters, a few hours earlier that 
 afternoon, the sergeant called to a special officer; 
 the officer hurried in. 
 
 " Say, Flynn," he remarked, with a jerk of the 
 head toward the window, " look at that man. 
 There's the man the banks want us to keep tab 
 on. See him ? That fellow with the slouch hat 
 that's the chap. Burke is after him, but there is 
 no sign of Burke around. He's slipped a cog 
 somehow. S'pose you turn in and follow the fel- 
 low. The banks are standing behind us, and 
 they're paying good money to keep track of this 
 man. It ain't our business to lose him. S'pose 
 you reckon him up a bit." 
 
 The officer nodded and started off. He kept his 
 man in sight. It was difficult work, not only be- 
 cause his man was a rapid walker and swerved in 
 and out of devious thoroughfares with rapidity, 
 but also because he kept constantly looking around 
 behind him. 
 
 St. John knew that he was being followed, and, 
 though he was the shadowed, he also was the
 
 SHADOWED 143 
 
 shadower. The afternoon passed and evening 
 came, but still on and on he walked, keeping his 
 eye the while on his pursuer quite as faithfully 
 as did the officer keep track of him. 
 
 Suddenly St. John turned swiftly down a dark, 
 narrow street, and when his pursuer reached the 
 corner, St. John had disappeared. 
 
 After a fruitless search of some ten minutes, 
 the special suddenly felt some one touch him on 
 the back of his hand; in an instant he recognised 
 the touch, and followed the other to a dark recess. 
 
 " Well, Burke," he remarked, " what're you 
 doin' here? I been followin' your man all the 
 evenin', an', by George, I just lost him I " 
 
 "What man?" demanded Burke. 
 
 " St. John, of course," returned the other. 
 
 " So, they've put you on the job, too? Well, 
 with the crowd we've got, there ain't much that he 
 can do without our seein' him. Only we've got 
 considerable of a wait before us before he comes 
 out." 
 
 " Comes out where ? " 
 
 " Why, he's making a visit in that brownstone 
 front down there No. 219, the one with the 
 grounds at the side. Thought you knew that."
 
 I 4 4 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " Knew it ! Why, I just had him in tow ten 
 minutes ago an' lost him. So that's where he 
 is, is it?" 
 
 " Sure," replied Burke. " He's been there an 
 hour already. It's about time he left, I'm 
 thinkin'." 
 
 The other man started. 
 
 " What you givin' us? I saw him on this here 
 street not fifteen minutes ago. Or else," he went 
 on with a smile, " or else you lost him, too. Come 
 on own up. Aren't you givin' me a bit of a 
 stiff?" 
 
 " Stiff, nothin' ! " retorted Burke. " I tell you 
 he's in there all right, all right. I got a couple o' 
 men there watchin' the place. When he comes out 
 they'll give me a flash of light. He's in there 
 all right." 
 
 " Look here, Burke," went on the other, " I tell 
 you he ain't. I tell you I saw him go around the 
 corner. I know what I'm talkin' about. 
 
 Burke looked at the special long and earnestly. 
 Finally he had to admit that it was possible that 
 the man had again given them the slip. 
 
 An hour later, Kittredge St. John took his de-
 
 SHADOWED 145 
 
 parture from the Paget home. Descending lightly 
 the steps to the street, he looked carelessly about 
 him before starting leisurely toward the centre of 
 the town. As he did so, four men emerged from 
 their hiding-places and followed him; but this 
 time they never left his heels until he had disap- 
 peared once more into the front door of the El- 
 beron apartments. 
 
 And, when he had done so, Burke and one other 
 man sat down and camped upon his trail. 
 
 That night the safe in the wholesale hardware 
 concern of Canda & Willett was cracked, and 
 something over $17,000 was stolen.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 INSIDE INFORMATION 
 
 MR. BONWIT glanced anxiously toward his fiancee, 
 her perturbation, even to his dull eye, being all too 
 evident. 
 
 " You look worried, Roxane," he ventured in 
 tones sounding the heights and depths of his af- 
 fection; "what's the matter, dear?" 
 
 And, indeed, well might he have asked the ques- 
 tion. For as he continually pressed in his big 
 hand her slender fingers and smoothed her bare, 
 round, white fore-arm, much as one might stroke 
 a cat, the fascinating Mrs. Bellairs' face wore any- 
 thing but a happy look. Her glance strayed on, 
 past the amorous president of the Manufacturers' 
 National, across the intervening landscape to the 
 outlines of the Iroquois Club down in the centre of 
 the town, which was barely visible from the arbour 
 of " The Ivies " Mrs. Bellairs' villa where they 
 were sitting, and the next instant rested upon the 
 chimneys that topped a certain bachelor apart- 
 ment-house not far from the club ; and, as her rest- 
 
 146
 
 INSIDE INFORMATION 147 
 
 less gaze darted from one to the other, her lips 
 tightened over her white teeth, the pupils of her 
 eyes shrunk suddenly to pin points, and her fingers 
 clutched Bonwit's with a convulsive grasp. 
 
 At first Bonwit mistook this sudden pressure 
 for a demonstration of affection, but, on looking 
 once more at her face, he became startled and re- 
 peated, in alarm: 
 
 " What what's the matter, Roxane? " 
 
 Roxane shook her head, but did not answer. 
 She could not tell him what troubled her reveal 
 to him that the devil of doubt again had assailed 
 her, the little devil that hovered over her night 
 and day whenever she thought of Kittredge St. 
 John. She was very still for an instant, and then 
 quite suddenly she threw back her head and smiled 
 gratefully at the man beside her. 
 
 " It's good of you to ask, bon ami," she replied. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, but I didn't quite catch 
 that," said the banker, placing his hand behind his 
 ear from force of habit. 
 
 " I said," returned Roxane, " that it was good 
 of you to ask ..." 
 
 " But you said more than that," persisted Mr. 
 Bonwit.
 
 i 4 8 THE CATSPAW 
 
 Roxane searched her memory. After a mo- 
 ment, she answered as she looked at him with a 
 half-smile on her face: 
 
 "Surely that's what I said." 
 Again Bonwit shook his head. 
 
 " But you said something else," he insisted. 
 
 " Oh, then it was bon ami was that it? " she 
 asked, laughing outright. 
 
 " Ah I see a pet name I love pet names, 
 Roxane. You'll call me that always, won't you ? " 
 
 Roxane came as near to a snicker as was possi- 
 ble for her to come. 
 
 "Do you think it quite suits you?" she de- 
 manded. 
 
 " Suit me or not," he persisted, assuming that 
 the unknown appellation held a world of warmth, 
 " I like it. Say it again, dear, won't you ? " 
 
 Roxane, apparently to hide her blushes, but in 
 reality to conceal the mirth that convulsed her, 
 turned away her head and whispered : 
 
 " Bon ami" 
 
 Mr. Bonwit was almost beside himself with 
 sheer happiness. A few seconds later, however, 
 he observed: 
 
 " If any one but yourself said it, perhaps . ; . .."
 
 INSIDE INFORMATION 149 
 
 Roxane suppressed giggles. 
 
 " Of course," she assured him. " But when / 
 say it to you, dear, it's most proper it's a case of 
 honi soil qui mal y pense is it not so, bon ami? " 
 
 " And would it be proper, Roxane, for me to 
 call you by that name ? " asked Bonwit earnestly. 
 
 Once more Roxane turned away her head, and, 
 with the invisible hand of self-control she clutched 
 her saving sense of humour. 
 
 " Decidedly so," she quickly informed him. 
 
 '* Then, I'll call you by that name to-morrow," 
 he faltered after several ineffectual efforts. "In- 
 deed, after this we'll always call each other by 
 that name, if you don't mind." 
 
 " When we are quite alone," acquiesced Roxane 
 with a sigh. 
 
 " Oh, of course," said Mr. Bonwit with an em- 
 phasis that implied that even though the world, 
 in its prudishness, might condemn them, yet he 
 and she would always understand. 
 
 " But, Roxane," he proceeded anxiously, " you 
 haven't told me what it is that worries you, my 
 dear." 
 
 Roxane shrugged her shoulders prettily. 
 
 " Why should I worry you about it? "
 
 1 50 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " Oh, but I insist upon knowing ..." 
 
 She poured him tea, saying: 
 
 " Let us eat, drink, and be merry while ..." 
 She broke off suddenly and handed him the cup; 
 but he waved it aside, and asked: 
 
 "Has it anything to do with me?" 
 
 She threw a glance of meaning across the tops 
 of villas and down into the heart of the town. 
 
 " No, indeed, it has nothing whatever to do with 
 you, my dear," she told him, with another shrug 
 of her shoulders. " It's sordid merely business 
 little business worries." 
 
 " Business! " he ejaculated. " Then, of course, 
 I can help you, if you'll tell me." 
 
 Roxane smiled. 
 
 " After all, perhaps you can. . . . It's about 
 my trustee that I worry. I believe him honest, and 
 yet ..." She drew forth from the folds of her 
 dress a neat statement of account and handed it to 
 Mr. Bonwit. 
 
 A glance at the figures fairly took Mr. Bonwit's 
 breath away. He was about to make some remark 
 when she suddenly went on with : 
 
 " It is old Gaspard, and he fails to account for 
 the income of a fifty-thousand-dollar mortgage
 
 INSIDE INFORMATION 151 
 
 the income for two whole years, you see. It's the 
 Croissant mortgage." 
 
 Bonwit's business eyes continued to scan the 
 paper. 
 
 " But," he protested, " he fails to account for 
 the principal, also ; there is no Croissant mortgage 
 here." 
 
 Roxane's eye brightened. 
 
 ' That is all right bon ami. You see, that 
 Croissant mortgage is sold; I had it sold some two 
 or three months ago. I needed the money but 
 what has that to do with the income? For years 
 I have been getting Croissant income where is it 
 now?" 
 
 " Why," laughed Bonwit, chuckling inwardly, 
 " you say you sold your mortgage and used the 
 money used the principal." 
 
 " Just what Gaspard says," she replied in be- 
 wilderment. " But what has it to do with income? 
 Always I should get the same income, should I 
 not?" 
 
 Roxane's eyes glanced into his with the se- 
 renity of a child her perfect faith was his by 
 right. 
 
 " But," he explained, " if you use a part of your
 
 I 5 2 THE CATSPAW 
 
 principal, you can't get income any more on what 
 you use; don't you see?" 
 
 "Say that again," she asked, her eyes trust- 
 fully looking into his. 
 
 " If you use up your principal, of course your 
 income on it is gone," he repeated with a smile. 
 
 Roxane was puzzled. 
 
 " Just what old Gaspard says, and he does not 
 do me the justice to explain it. All he utters in 
 answer to my fifteen or twenty polite letters on the 
 subject, is this one epigram : * All women are fools.* 
 But you, bon ami, you will explain fully to me; 
 will you not? My head ah, it is no head for 
 business, I am afraid! " 
 
 Whereupon Mr. Bonwit, for the next half-hour, 
 proceeded to explain to a woman, who knew more 
 in one minute about business than most women 
 would know in a lifetime, just how and why it 
 was that when you spent your principal your in- 
 come ceased at once. 
 
 " At last I understand ! " exclaimed Roxane 
 gleefully. 
 
 Bonwit surrendered to her the statement of ac- 
 count, his eyes glistening as he gloated over the 
 millions that it dealt with. But how was he to
 
 INSIDE INFORMATION 153 
 
 know that all this by-play was purposeful; that it 
 constituted the thin edge of the wedge; that it 
 was the prelude to a catastrophe that was destined 
 to occur within the next few days? all of which 
 Roxane knew and pursued her course accord- 
 ingly. 
 
 '* Will you always explain these things to me? " 
 she queried. 
 
 "Of course," replied Bonwit;"but are you 
 quite sure that is all that worried you ? " 
 
 The woman smiled and showed her white teeth. 
 
 " It is not right to worry you worry you about 
 affairs a woman should never do that never 
 worry a man with her troubles. Her mission is to 
 entertain, to amuse, to comfort, to . . ." She 
 stopped suddenly, a faint little smile hovering on 
 her face. 
 
 " Go on," said Bonwit, his great love showing 
 in his eyes. 
 
 " Those are not altogether my thoughts," she 
 hastened to say. " No, for I think the best part 
 of love, yes, of matrimony, is to hear and help 
 bear each other's worries. Does one confide in 
 parents, brothers, sisters? Isn't it usually some 
 one whom we have chosen well, just as you have
 
 i 54 THE CATSPAW 
 
 chosen me and I have chosen you ? Perhaps," she 
 faltered, " you do not agree with me." 
 
 " Of course I do," blurted out Bonwit, going 
 unheeding to his doom. 
 
 "Ah, but you do not tell me your worries, 
 dear," she went on swiftly; " all that you tell me 
 is love, love, love. Is it because I am not worthy 
 to hear the rest too little head and brain to be 
 confided in? " 
 
 " Surely," spluttered Bonwit, delighted, " you 
 don't want me to bother you with ..." 
 
 She held up her forefinger. 
 
 " Of course, you must have business worries like 
 every one else. Ah, I have seen the little wrinkles 
 on your brow, and I have tried to smooth them out 
 as no woman ever tried! I have said to myself, 
 time and again, ' Of course I can be of no help, I 
 cannot understand, but I can sympathise.' But you 
 never came to me, and I have often wondered 
 if you did not go to some other woman for 
 sympathy." 
 
 Bonwit's countenance became rubicund with joy. 
 
 "Great Scott, Roxane!" he cried. "You 
 couldn't have said anything that pleased me more ! 
 I've just been aching to tell you all about it."
 
 INSIDE INFORMATION 155 
 
 " About what ? " she asked, startled. 
 
 For a moment Bonwit was silent. Upon him 
 were the habits formed by years of business expe- 
 rience. He never talked bank to any one outside 
 of the bank. a banking business is a secret busi- 
 ness. And yet, the confidence, the faith, the witch- 
 ery of this woman intoxicated him as if with wine. 
 At length he ventured: 
 
 " I'll tell you, Roxane, you're dead right. I 
 have been worried worried like the devil, too. 
 It's the bank that's worried me." 
 
 Roxane looked alarmed. 
 
 "It will not break?" 
 
 " No, no," he laughingly reassured her; " it 
 isn't that. It's the board of directors that's got 
 me me, Philander Bonwit, the biggest banking 
 man in town by the throat ! " 
 
 Roxane looked at his throat sympathetically. 
 
 "Tell me. ..." 
 
 " They're too progressive," he went on; " they 
 want to run a bank like a department store want 
 to take in every little twopenny account that 
 comes along and they want to take big risks 
 when it comes to loaning money. I'm conserva- 
 tive, they say, too conservative. But they're
 
 i 5 6 THE CATSPAW 
 
 too progressive, I tell them and so they 
 are." 
 
 Roxane clenched her right hand. 
 
 " You should take them all by the throat and 
 throw them out into the street," she said with a 
 show of anger. 
 
 Bonwit shook his head. 
 
 " They're elected by the stockholders. They're 
 the directors. They have the say." 
 
 " Some day," she ventured, clutching somewhere 
 within the folds of her dress Gaspard's statement 
 of account, " some day maybe I could buy some 
 stock in this bank of yours; maybe then I could 
 help you to get them by the throat." 
 
 Bonwit's heart leaped. 
 
 "I hadn't thought of that," he said; but his 
 tell-tale blush was not lost on Roxane. She knew, 
 and was glad to know, that he had thought of this 
 many times. For Bonwit may have been one part 
 heart, but he was at least three parts greed, and, 
 much as the fascinating Mrs. Bellairs enthralled 
 him, her purse was not without its fascination, 
 too. 
 
 " But that isn't all," declared Roxane tactfully. 
 ' There is something special some crisis has wor-
 
 INSIDE INFORMATION 157 
 
 ried you more than ever the last few days. Why, 
 you've actually been getting thin and it's all 
 wrong for one of your physique to get thin." 
 
 "Do you think so?" asked Bonwit, who had 
 spent a considerable portion of his time in reduc- 
 ing his weight a reduction never at any time 
 perceptible. 
 
 " I know so," she answered promptly. " Yet 
 you please me just as you are, bon ami." 
 
 Whereupon Mr. Bonwit digressed. He insisted 
 at this juncture that he was entitled to a dozen 
 kisses ; finally reduced the number to half a dozen, 
 and in the end pleaded for one, which, however, 
 was not forthcoming. 
 
 " Not until you have told me all your troubles," 
 responded the elusive Mrs. Bellairs; "for only 
 then will you stop getting thin, and only then shall 
 I love you. Now then. ..." 
 
 "The recent trouble," obeyed Bonwit, " is due 
 to the decision of the board of directors contrary 
 to my vote in taking on a certain Western bank 
 of somewhat shaky standing. This bank's offer 
 was too alluring, and my bank jumped at the bait. 
 They're satisfied that this new customer is sound 
 and, of course, if it is so, we'll make a lot of money
 
 i 5 8 THE CATSPAW 
 
 on it. But other banks have passed it up other 
 Eastern banks, and my view is that what isn't 
 good enough for the other chaps isn't good enough 
 for me." 
 
 " You never take chances, then ? " observed the 
 widow. 
 
 "No," admitted Bonwit. 
 
 There was infinite allurement in the lifting of 
 Roxane's eyebrows. 
 
 " And yet," she protested, " what a chance you 
 take in me. But go on I'm all attention, all sym- 
 pathy; tell me everything, dear." 
 
 " The whole thing culminated in a decisive step 
 the board took. This new Western customer 
 wanted a hundred thousand cash wanted it right 
 away on securities that don't look good to me. 
 The board thinks they are gilt-edged and are going 
 to send the currency right out." 
 
 "Currency?" demanded Mrs. Bellairs interest- 
 edly. ' You mean coin, gold, silver ..." 
 
 "Oh, no!" responded Bonwit carelessly; 
 41 bills, that's all." 
 
 " And they would risk how much did you 
 say?" 
 
 "A hundred thousand," repeated Bonwit.
 
 INSIDE INFORMATION 159 
 
 " And," she went on, her eagerness disguised 
 as sympathy, " they sent all this money out on bad 
 security." 
 
 " Humph ! " grunted Bonwit, his hand clench- 
 ing at the recollection, " they would have sent it 
 yesterday it's in our vaults, ready to go out 
 if I hadn't raised thunder with them at the meet- 
 ing. Talk about getting thin! Why, I lost five 
 pounds trying to persuade those chaps ..." 
 
 " You won, then," interrupted Roxane with a 
 smile. 
 
 "No," he quickly informed her; "there's a 
 truce. They're going to hold another meeting on 
 it in a day or two, but it's only a polite concession 
 to me old Bonwit, as they call me. I can see 
 they'll have their way; their policy is going to win 
 out but it spells ruin for the bank in time. Fools 
 that they are ! " 
 
 Roxane suddenly rose. 
 
 "Ah, you should have told me this long be- 
 fore! For, let me tell you something. To-day, 
 it is true, it may be impossible to ward off this 
 crisis; but the time will come the time will come 
 when you'll not only be the president as you now 
 are , but you shall be the board of directors the
 
 160 THE CATSPAW 
 
 stockholders the bank itself, and your word will 
 be law. You ..." 
 
 She paused; Bonwit, too, had risen. His 
 thoughts were on the Gaspard account, and his 
 eyes glowed with business ambition. 
 
 "When that time comes ..." 
 
 Roxane stretched wide her arms. 
 
 " Would that I had known all this before," she 
 repeated, and quite honestly. " You should have 
 told me everything. But, look! " she cried, star- 
 ing at his glowing face; " even in the telling you 
 have grown stronger, younger. That is the 
 secret of the confidence of love. In the telling, 
 troubles vanish; do they not? Keep your eyes 
 on the future, keep your eyes on me, my 
 friend." 
 
 " I can't keep my eyes off you," sighed Bonwit. 
 
 " Ah," cried Roxane, " to be of some use to 
 you! If I were able to stand here now and say 
 to you to the dastardly board of your bank No, 
 that shipment does not go West! However, it 
 is good to think that the time will come when I 
 shall be of some help. ..." 
 
 After he had gone, Roxane ascended to her 
 cupola, and stood for a long time in the dusk glanc-
 
 INSIDE INFORMATION 161 
 
 ing down upon the early evening lights of the 
 town. 
 
 " Little he knows," she whispered to herself 
 with a smile, " how soon the purpose of the board 
 will come to naught how soon his policies will be 
 enforced."
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE KEYBOARD CIPHER 
 
 ROXANE BELLAIRS entered the Manufacturers' 
 National Bank and stood tapping upon the plate- 
 glass window of the president's door. It was after 
 business hours, and, save for a clerk or two at work 
 in remote corners of the bank, Mr. Bonwit was 
 alone. 
 
 " I've come, you see, according to my promise," 
 announced the widow. " And here," as the foot- 
 man entered with a huge black case, " we have the 
 implement of torture." 
 
 " Oh ! " gasped the president as he glanced 
 upon the footman's burden, " I thought you were 
 going to do this at your place." 
 
 The widow shook her head. 
 
 "I have no light, my friend, save on my lawn; 
 and surely you wouldn't want me to take a picture 
 of you there. You have such wide west windows," 
 she announced, as her glance roved into the bank. 
 
 " And at this time of day the sun is just where he 
 
 162
 
 THE KEYBOARD CIPHER 163 
 
 should be. Come, and I will show you a trick or 
 two worth while." 
 
 "Are you going to take my picture in this 
 room ? " asked Bonwit. 
 
 Roxane gazed critically at the lights and shades. 
 After a moment, she answered: 
 
 " No, not in this room, but somewhere in the 
 bank. Suppose we make a tour just a little tour 
 of inspection." 
 
 "Delighted," he said, leading the way; but 
 suddenly he stopped, his face flushed, and added: 
 " Just a moment, Roxane, until until I send these 
 young chaps home." 
 
 When the president of the Manufacturers' re- 
 turned he found Roxane alone, having dismissed 
 her footman. 
 
 " Not much of a cosey corner, this old bank, 
 Roxane," resumed Mr. Bonwit, holding out his 
 arms in a very earnest but somewhat lumbering 
 manner; " but still ..." 
 
 " Oh, but we are not here for cosey corners," 
 she interrupted, shaking her slender, white, jew- 
 elled finger at him. " We have business afoot. 
 Come, come with me." And she led him into the 
 bank and to the three broad barred windows, be-
 
 1 64 THE CATSPAW 
 
 yond which the sun, still white, hung low in the 
 heavens. 
 
 " Now, then," she went on, " we must take you 
 as I am to paint you a typical banking man, with 
 all the lights and shades strong upon the face; 
 must we not? " 
 
 " I thought I was going to sit for this portrait," 
 grumbled Bonwit. 
 
 " You child ! " she exclaimed. " You shall sit 
 and look into my eyes for many days while I shall 
 work like mad. Of course, for the final touches 
 you shall sit. You know the modern method is 
 to outline everything. First, comes the photo- 
 graph; then the life-size, life-like enlargement; 
 then you, the life model; and finally the finished 
 portrait. Now, dear, suppose you stand here for 
 a moment." 
 
 Mr. Bonwit stood, where she placed him, in 
 the full glare of the sunlight. Swiftly, then, 
 she placed the huge camera upon its tripod, 
 and quite as swiftly viewed him through the 
 lens. 
 
 " It will not do," she said; " we shall have to 
 try elsewhere." 
 
 They tried another place, and still another, and
 
 THE KEYBOARD CIPHER 165 
 
 finally Roxane's eyes lighted with the joy and tri- 
 umph of the artist as she exultantly exclaimed: 
 
 " At last we have it ! I shall place you precisely 
 where you belong directly beside this huge vault 
 door." 
 
 And, indeed, no sooner had the words left her 
 lips than her subject was standing where the lights 
 and shades so adjusted themselves as to set forth 
 his portly figure to the best advantage; and, in 
 the twinkling of an eye, the widow had taken 
 no less than six pictures of him in various posi- 
 tions beside the big vault door. 
 
 " Wouldn't be a bad plan to have that vault 
 door in the painting, would it ? " he asked. 
 " Rather typical of a bank man, seems to me." 
 
 " Indeed, no there shall be no vault door 
 in this picture. It is the man that I shall 
 paint." 
 
 A few evenings later she exhibited to Mr. Bon- 
 wit the finished photograph. "And now," she 
 added, " if you will ascend with me to my studio 
 in the cupola of " The Ivies," you shall see where 
 you and I shall spend many pleasant days to- 
 gether." 
 
 They ascended the winding staircase that led
 
 1 66 THE CATSPAW 
 
 to the cupola, madame very lightly, and Mr. Bon- 
 wit very heavily. 
 
 " Jerusalem ! " he cried out as he looked upon 
 the expanse of canvas extending almost from the 
 ceiling to the floor; "you're going to paint me 
 big enough, Roxane; aren't you?" 
 
 " I have a big man to paint," she explained, 
 making him a courtesy. " And here," she contin- 
 ued, turning to the life-size photograph, " is an en- 
 largement from which I sketch in the rough detail. 
 And every day, or as often as you like to come, 
 you may come and see for yourself how I am get- 
 ting on. Day by day, I shall bring the real Bon- 
 wit, almost a living man, out of this canvas, out 
 of these paint brushes. You shall see ah, I am 
 an artist! And, like all artists, I have one great, 
 overwhelming, mastering inspiration, as you shall 
 see. That is you, dear." 
 
 Day after day, after banking hours, Mr. Bon- 
 wit wended his way to " The Ivies " on the top of 
 the hill, climbing his way into the cupola, where 
 he gazed with undisguised pleasure upon the fast- 
 growing Bonwit, who appeared upon the canvas. 
 On one of these occasions, he grumblingly told 
 her:
 
 THE KEYBOARD CIPHER 167 
 
 " Roxane, I don't see why you don't let me an- 
 nounce our engagement why you won't set the 
 day?" 
 
 " Why, it's just glorious this being betrothed 
 and nobody knowing it. In this concealment there 
 is just the spice of romance that the artist enjoys. 
 Besides, could I paint, do you think, the portrait 
 of my husband? It's the apparent freedom and 
 yet the bondage that I enjoy. The picture must 
 be finished first. When you marry me, you may 
 destroy the artist." 
 
 " Just as you say, Roxane. But how long be- 
 fore it will be finished? " 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 "Not even an artist could answer that. You 
 must be patient. Let us dream; reality is close 
 enough at hand." 
 
 It was that same evening, after Mr. Bonwit had 
 taken his departure, that Roxane Bellairs stole 
 back once more into the cupola, swept on her bril- 
 liant lights over her canvas, and drew down the 
 shades, where she sat for a long time with folded 
 hands, waiting. 
 
 At last she heard the sound she waited for: a 
 gentle tap-tap upon the window. In an instant
 
 1 68 THE CATSPAW 
 
 she extinguished the lights, raised the shades, and 
 looked out Upon the sloping roof, with his face 
 not three feet from hers, stood a man. She threw 
 back the window, and the man leaped in; and 
 then once more she swept on her lights. 
 
 " I came up the outside way," remarked St. 
 John, as he stood half-blinking in the full glare. 
 "I suppose that was all right to-night?" 
 
 " Yes," she whispered. " It was the best way. 
 I have wanted so to see you. These weeks have 
 seemed like months, years. Oh, when are we go- 
 ing to live, Kitt? Now it is but a wave of the 
 hand, a glance of the eye, a word here and there. 
 When, oh, when do we begin to live? " 
 
 St. John looked steadily into her eyes. 
 
 "We are living now, Roxane," he said. 
 " There's something more in life than love, isn't 
 there? Don't you feel it? " 
 
 "For you, possibly," she responded; "but not 
 for me. All that I'm doing, Kitt, is for you." 
 
 " And don't you know," he returned, " that all 
 I do is for you? Don't you know that I'm fol- 
 lowing out the plans that were conceived by you ? " 
 
 She threw back her head in sheer admiration. 
 
 " And you are doing nobly, Kitt, nobly. You
 
 THE KEYBOARD CIPHER 169 
 
 have the real instinct, whilst I I'm a pretty poor 
 artisan. I can only act by subterfuge; but you, 
 you do; you force; you seize. Only," she added 
 with a puzzled air, " that is what I can't under- 
 stand. How do you escape the law? " 
 
 St. John smiled a grim smile. 
 
 '* That is something that nobody knows but I. 
 Roxane, if I have one virtue, it is that I keep my 
 secrets to myself." He turned to the canvas. " Is 
 this what you desired to show me this half-fin- 
 ished portrait of the man you love? " 
 
 " Love ! " And she looked the scorn that she 
 felt as she added : " How I hate the sight of 
 him!" 
 
 "You could do worse, Roxane. But," he 
 added, " you are not up to the mark on this piece 
 of work. This is not one of your masterpieces. 
 What does Bonwit think about it? " 
 
 " Being far from a masterpiece himself, friend 
 Bonwit is no judge. How can one paint without 
 an inspiration, and who could be inspired by Bon- 
 wit ! Some day, Kitt, I shall paint your portrait, 
 but not until we begin to live. No," she concluded 
 hastily, " I didn't send for you to see Bonwit's 
 picture ; I sent for you to look upon another."
 
 1 7 o THE CATSPAW 
 
 Then, before doing what she had to do, Roxane 
 darted to the door and made sure that it was se- 
 curely locked, examined the windows, and assured 
 herself that there was no crack or crevice through 
 which prying eyes might see ; and now stepping to 
 the Bonwit portrait, she drew it suddenly, swiftly, 
 deftly aside, revealing another picture a study in 
 still life that made St. John hold his breath in 
 sheer wonder and admiration. 
 
 " Great Heavens, Roxane ! " he exclaimed ex- 
 ultantly ; " this is a masterpiece ! There is inspi- 
 ration in that, all right." 
 
 " Inspiration ! Yes, Kitt, because it was done 
 for you. Oh, I have worked so hard upon 
 it!" 
 
 And, as Kittredge St. John stood there glanc- 
 ing alternately at the new canvas and the woman 
 before him, there was borne in upon him the sud- 
 den realisation of all that the woman had done 
 for him. 
 
 4 You're a marvel, a genius, Roxane ! " he said. 
 41 Life is incomplete without you." Roxane 
 sighed; he went on dreamily: "Yes, it is as you 
 say. Some day we shall begin to live." 
 
 There was a silence; St. John was the first
 
 THE KEYBOARD CIPHER 171 
 
 to break it, for, turning to the canvas, he sud- 
 denly asked: 
 
 " Roxane, when can I take this with me? " 
 
 Her reply came reluctantly, after some delay: 
 
 " Any time you say." 
 
 "And when may I use it?" he inquired, his 
 whole attention hanging on her words. 
 
 " That is something that my friend Mr. Bon- 
 wit will tell me; and, when he tells me, I shall 
 let you know." 
 
 When St. John left the cupola that night, he 
 carried with him, rolled into a cylinder under his 
 arm, Roxane Bellairs' clever picture of still life. 
 
 Some days later the cashier of the Manufac- 
 turers' National Bank and Mr. Bonwit, the presi- 
 dent, were closeted in the latter's room in close 
 consultation. 
 
 " I don't suppose," said Bonwit, " that this chap 
 would dare to tackle another bank in town. Mor- 
 daunt's was a rattle-trap affair, and he probably 
 knew it." 
 
 " Whoever he is, he's undoubtedly clever. How- 
 ever, I'm not so sure that it was not this man St. 
 John."
 
 i 7 2 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " Nonsense ! Why, St. John was miles from 
 the place. Of course, some clever chap did the 
 trick, some professional yeggman, that goes with- 
 out saying. But Burke and O'Connell never saw 
 St. John that night they merely thought they 
 did. My view is that they were on a little spree. 
 Didn't you notice how confused they were when 
 they tried to explain, on the stand, how the man 
 got away from them in the face of their re- 
 volvers? No living man could get away as they 
 described it ! Besides, I had an interview and so 
 did Steele, of the Bankers' Club with Burke, the 
 next morning, and the man looked and acted like 
 a man who had been on a spree. Any ordinary 
 officer could have nabbed that thief, and I can't 
 understand why they didn't." 
 
 " The fact remains," said the cashier, " that 
 that Mordaunt job was the cleverest thing that has 
 ever been done here." 
 
 "It looked to me like an inside job, and, the 
 more I think of it, the more I believe it was. The 
 cutting of the bars and the cutting of the window- 
 pane were all a blind; in fact, I think most bank 
 robberies are liable to be inside jobs; and that's 
 what I'm protecting the Manufacturers' against."
 
 THE KEYBOARD CIPHER 173 
 
 " What have you done? " 
 
 " What I've done is this : Our night-watchmen 
 are to stay out here in the corridor; the big vault 
 door and the small safe are visible from here; 
 they are not to go inside. They can see every- 
 thing from here, absolutely everything. I'm go- 
 ing to have a new set of locks to keep the watch- 
 men out; I'm going to see to it that nobody has 
 access to the vault or to the safe at night. Of 
 course, we think we can trust Mackerley, and we 
 think we can trust Jim. But, suppose we don't 
 trust anybody." 
 
 " I guess you're right," sighed the cashier. 
 " But they're good watchmen," he added, " and 
 don't drink. We ought to be safe enough." 
 
 But, notwithstanding that the Manufacturers' 
 had been safe for many years, the improvements 
 as suggested by Mr. Bonwit were adopted by the 
 Board. And thus it came about that Mackerley, 
 the head watchman, and Jim, his assistant, every 
 night, turn and turn about, paced the corridor in 
 full view of everything inside the bank, and 
 more particularly in full view of the big vault 
 door. 
 
 It happened, however, that one Saturday night,
 
 i 7 4 THE CATSPAW 
 
 a few weeks later, while Jim, the second watch- 
 man, was sitting in the bank's corridor smoking a 
 cigar a cigar that some customer of the bank 
 had tendered to him on that day his gaze stray- 
 ing lazily and sleepily from one window to the 
 other, and from the small safe to the big vault, 
 suddenly found himself staring, as in a dream, to- 
 ward the big vault door. In an instant he was 
 on his feet, gun in hand, rushing down the stairs 
 into the basement and into Mackerley's little room. 
 He found Mackerley reading an evening paper. 
 
 " Mackerley," he cried, shaking his arm fiercely, 
 " there's a burglar in the bank ! Come, come 
 quick!" 
 
 " You're dreamin', Jim, dreamin'," Mackerley 
 told him when he arrived on the scene. 
 
 " Dreamin' nothin'," retorted Jim. " I should 
 think that I knew when I saw a thing with my own 
 eyes!" 
 
 " Well, what did you see? " asked Mackerley. 
 
 Jim's grip tightened upon his chief's arm. He 
 answered : 
 
 " I saw a man come out of that vault not more 
 than three minutes ago. Do you understand a 
 three minutes ago."
 
 THE KEYBOARD CIPHER 175 
 
 " No, I don't understand," returned the other. 
 " How could he come out of the door when . . . " 
 
 " By George," interrupted Jim, " that's the 
 funny part of it. He didn't come out of the door; 
 he came out of the side of the vault, right near 
 the door." 
 
 " The side of the vault ! Why, he couldn't 
 come out of the side of the vault; there's three 
 feet of steel and brick and mortar there, and he 
 didn't leave a hole." 
 
 " Whether he did or not, you can depend upon 
 it when I tell you that I saw a man come out of 
 the side of that vault not more than three minutes 
 ago. He's somewhere in the bank." 
 
 " But what kind of a looking man was he?" 
 Mackerley asked, still unbelieving. 
 
 " I can tell you that all right," answered Jim, 
 " for I know who the man is. He's Kittredge St. 
 John, a friend of our president's, a friend of the 
 whole town. He saw me, too, and looked me full 
 in the face as I looked at him. In fact, we stood 
 like a pair of yaps for half a minute, looking 
 squarely at each other, and then what do you 
 think he did?" 
 
 "Well?"
 
 i 7 6 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " He drew a gun, actually pointed it at me, 
 and I drew my gun and covered him; then, quick 
 as a flash, he darted into that there room with his 
 dress-suit case, shutting the door behind him." 
 
 For the first time Mackerley started. Before, 
 when on his round, that door had been open, and 
 now it was closed. Some agency had done it, some 
 human agency; there must be some one in the 
 bank. 
 
 "What are we going to do?" he now asked, 
 thoroughly alarmed. 
 
 Jim looked at him hopelessly. 
 
 "Well," went on the other, "to begin with, 
 we're not going to make fools of ourselves. That 
 room has got bars on all its windows; nobody is 
 going to pass through without our seeing him. 
 The thing to do is to telephone to Bonwit." And, 
 accordingly, he telephoned the president, who, 
 pooh-poohing the story though he did over the 
 wire, nevertheless hustled into his clothes and came 
 down with his bunch of keys. 
 
 "It's up to you, Mr. Bonwit, to call up the 
 police," said Mackerley; "Jim and I will go in 
 and investigate." 
 
 iWhereupon, Mr. Bonwit unlocked the barred
 
 THE KEYBOARD CIPHER 177 
 
 door leading into the bank and then retreated to 
 the safety of the president's room, wiping the per- 
 spiration from his head and flooding his own sanc- 
 tum with all the light that he could command. 
 
 " Now, Mackerley," he said, " you and Jim can 
 investigate while I call up the police." But he 
 didn't call up the police that is, just then, for 
 no sooner had Mackerley placed his hand upon 
 the door-knob of the suspected room than a 
 muffled shot rang out and a bullet crashed through 
 the door above the watchman's head. 
 
 " We've got him trapped at any rate, Jim," 
 he said, trying the door once more and finding 
 it locked. " He's in there and he can't get 
 out." 
 
 Then he tiptoed, with the second watchman, 
 back to the president, who, by this time, was in a 
 panic of fear; but, before he reached Bonwit, his 
 assistant turned to Mackerley and said : 
 
 " Here's the very spot where he came out of 
 the vault! " 
 
 For a fraction of a second they stood gazing 
 upon the vault door, or upon what seemed to be 
 the vault door, and then, full tilt, forgetting the 
 man in the room beyond, they dashed down the
 
 i 7 8 THE CATSPAW 
 
 corridor and dragged the panic-stricken Mr. Bon- 
 wit into the bank. 
 
 " Mr. Bonwit," gasped Mackerley, " do you 
 see that there what is that thing?" 
 
 " What do you mean? " asked Bonwit. 
 
 " That," said Mackerley, pointing with a 
 tremulous finger. 
 
 " Why, that's the vault door. What else could 
 it be?" 
 
 " Are you sure? " persisted Mackerley. " Come 
 and see ..." 
 
 And then it was that Mr. Bonwit went over, 
 and, to his great astonishment, he perceived that 
 what had seemed to him to be the vault door was 
 not the vault door, but a counterfeit presentment 
 of it a huge canvas, done in oils, that reproduced 
 the vault door in all details. 
 
 " And it was out of here he came ! " cried Jim ; 
 " right out of here." 
 
 The president's eyes followed the gesture of the 
 second watchman. 
 
 " Out of the side of the vault," persisted Jim. 
 
 And again Mr. Bonwit's eyes bulged with as- 
 tonishment, for the place indicated by his employee 
 was not the side of the vault; it was another paint-
 
 THE KEYBOARD CIPHER 179 
 
 ing in still life on a strip of canvas not a foot 
 wide, painted in dull stone colours. Bonwit gin- 
 gerly lifted it up and, forgetting temporarily his 
 fear, he stepped within. Inside this stage-setting 
 was the real vault door, the painted canvas hang- 
 ing having constituted a clever framework set up 
 before it a sort of box within which one man 
 might move about. There was no man there now, 
 but Mr. Bonwit, after placing his hand upon the 
 handle of the genuine door, retreated in great con- 
 sternation : the vault was open. 
 
 " Mackerley, see if there's anything inside ! " 
 he ordered. 
 
 Mackerley, with his revolver in hand, drew 
 back the bolts and threw wide the door, which 
 brushed against the canvas on which its fellow had 
 been painted. He found no man inside; in fact, 
 he found scarcely anything else. 
 
 " The Western shipment has been stolen, Mr. 
 Bonwit!" he exclaimed, his face as white as a 
 sheet. " It's gone every bit of it. ... " 
 
 "What!" roared Bonwit. "Here, let me 
 look!" 
 
 He looked and found it all too true. 
 
 " Great Heavens, there's a hundred thousand
 
 1 80 THE CATSPAW 
 
 dollars gone gone, do you understand ! " he cried 
 out. " A hundred thousand dollars and more ! " 
 
 The three men had not realised that they had 
 been singularly inactive. The discovery of the 
 painted door and sort of stage curtain, behind 
 which a clever man had worked while they had 
 looked on complacently for half the night, had 
 paralysed, benumbed them. 
 
 Like most men in large banks, they were un- 
 used to robbery although they are constantly on 
 the lookout for it and here was a cleverness that 
 baffled them. When the burglar had adjusted the 
 false front, and how he had done it, were mys- 
 teries which gave rise to immediate speculation. 
 It was the certain loss of the big Western ship- 
 ment of United States bank notes, however, that 
 forced them into sudden action. 
 
 " Never fear, Mr. Bonwit," said Mackerley, 
 " the man is in that room, and we're going to get 
 him if it takes half of the police force in the 
 town to do it." 
 
 "And don't forget, Mr. Bonwit," whispered 
 Jim, " that I saw the man, with his dress-suit case, 
 too, with them bills inside of it. And don't forget 
 that the man was Mr. St. John."
 
 THE KEYBOARD CIPHER 181 
 
 " St. John ! You're crazy, man ! Those rum 
 policemen also said they had seen St. John; but 
 you're not drunk! Anyhow, St. John's a friend 
 of mine; he's rich, straight as a string! What's 
 the matter with you, Jim ? " 
 
 " I tell you," returned Jim doggedly, " that I 
 saw Mr. St. John. He looked me in the face for 
 half a minute; I know what I know." 
 Bonwit thrust forth his hand, saying: 
 4 Why, Jim, you you must be mistaken. You 
 didn't believe that it was St. John that robbed 
 the Mordaunt Bank, did you?" 
 " I didn't before ; but I do now." 
 " Ah," said Bonwit, " every man in town has 
 got St. John on the brain. I guess you were look- 
 ing for him and thought you saw him." 
 
 " All this doesn't help us to get this chap that's 
 in there ! " suddenly exclaimed Mackerley. 
 
 " It does not," said Bonwit, and immediately he 
 proceeded to ring up headquarters, and got the 
 desk-sergeant on the wire. He told him briefly 
 who he was and what he wanted, ending 
 with : 
 
 " Just a moment, and I'll put my second watch- 
 man on, and he'll tell you more about it."
 
 1 82 THE CATSPAW 
 
 After the desk-sergeant had despatched his re- 
 serves, the second watchman poured forth his tale 
 into the transmitter. 
 
 " And the man I saw," he concluded, " was Mr. 
 St. John, and no mistake about it." 
 
 " You're dreaming! " called back the sergeant. 
 " Why, Kittredge St. John has just left here ! " 
 
 " Just left where? " asked Jim. 
 
 "Just left headquarters; he's been here for 
 half an hour." 
 
 " Half an hour? Why, it was not it could not 
 have been a half-hour ago that I saw him, face 
 to face." 
 
 "You must be crazy!" came over the wire. 
 " I tell you that Kittredge St. John has been here 
 for a long while, and he's just left. Came in ex- 
 pressly to see about some woman's house being 
 protected against this very burglar that you're 
 talking about came in with a man named Var- 
 num, and they, dress-suit case and all, left to- 
 gether." 
 
 " Dress-suit case, did you say?" gasped Jim. 
 
 " I did. He had a real alligator one at that, 
 with the best kind of crocodile-skin on it that I 
 ever saw," responded the sergeant good-naturedly.
 
 THE KEYBOARD CIPHER 183 
 
 "Well, I'll be ! Why, that's the same 
 
 suit-case that he had up here." 
 
 " Anyhow, the reserves are on their way," 
 wound up the sergeant; and a moment more and 
 they had dashed round the corner and were going 
 up the steps of the bank. Two of them had crept 
 down the alley-way and covered the rear windows 
 of the bank with their guns; two more were al- 
 ready breaking into the room. 
 
 " Turn out all the lights ! " commanded the re- 
 serves. " He'll be in the dark, and we don't want 
 to be targets." 
 
 Then, with two vigorous assaults upon the 
 door, the lock snapped, and two reserves plunged 
 tumultuously into the room beyond. Much to 
 their surprise, it was as light as day within; like- 
 wise, much to their surprise, the room was empty 
 there was no one there. 
 
 One of the reserves immediately climbed up to 
 one window and shook the bars; the bars resisted 
 they were as firm as a rock. He stepped to 
 the next window and clutched the bars on that; 
 with a rattle and a crash, they fell to the 
 floor. 
 
 "Ahal it's the same trick, done by the same
 
 1 84 THE CATSPAW 
 
 man that did up the Mordaunt Bank! And, 
 what's more, he's got away with the goods ! " 
 
 " Not yet! " cried Jim. " Do you know where 
 this St. John said he was going when he left head- 
 quarters? " 
 
 The reserve thought a moment. 
 
 " They were going to the club, I believe he 
 said." 
 
 " Somebody follow him and get that dress-suit 
 case ! " exclaimed Jim excitedly. " That dress- 
 suit case has got the goods ! " 
 
 To the credit of the town of M , be it said, 
 
 that so well did they proceed about their busi- 
 ness, that one of the reserves intercepted Mr. Kitt- 
 redge St. John and Mr. Archie Varnum, as the 
 two were about to enter the Iroquois Club. 
 
 The plain-clothes man detailed to do this duty 
 watched them enter, watched St. John drop his 
 dress-suit case near the entrance, and watched them 
 pass on into the grill-room of the club. Then, in 
 the absence of the hall-boy, and with some swift 
 trick, known to plain-clothes men in general, and 
 to this one in particular, he opened the dress-suit 
 case and explored its recesses : it contained nothing 
 save the articles for which it had been originally
 
 THE KEYBOARD CIPHER 185 
 
 intended a full suit of evening clothes, serene 
 in their blackness, empty as to pockets, but as to 
 any of the bank-notes, constituting the Western 
 shipment of the Manufacturers' National Bank, 
 the suit-case was as guiltless as any suit-case 
 could be. 
 
 Back in the bank, Mackerley's attention had 
 been attracted to a small piece of paper found in 
 the room in which the burglar had taken refuge. 
 At first he thought it was a bank-clerk's memo- 
 randum; but, on looking closely at it, he found it 
 to be something quite different, and he took it 
 hastily to Mr. Bonwit. 
 
 The president of the Manufacturers' National 
 looked upon something that read like this: - 
 
 Ndea vpbj npub cpykr 
 ibw gybsews rgiyapbs 
 rwba rqwbruwa sewaa 
 ayur xpaw ribufgr 
 
 AQWWRGWPER. 
 
 This piece of paper together with the identifi- 
 cation of Jim, the second watchman, were the only 
 things which would serve in any way to connect 
 any individual with the burglary. 
 
 The following morning, Burke, of headquar- 
 ters, appeared at Mr. Bonwit's office.
 
 1 86 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " I understand," said Burke, " that all you've 
 got out of this is a scrap of paper. Let me see 
 the scrap." 
 
 Bonwit showed it to him ; Burke merely glanced 
 at it for a second, at the end of which he re- 
 quested that a typewriter be brought to him, that 
 he might " dope out " the contents of the paper. 
 
 " The first and second words, Mr. Bonwit," he 
 explained, " mean Manufacturers' Bank, and the 
 rest is just as easy." 
 
 " How do you know ? " asked Bonwit, sur- 
 prised. 
 
 " I suspected as soon as I saw it that some one 
 had used the keyboard cipher." 
 
 " Keyboard cipher? I've heard of a good many 
 ciphers, but I've never heard of that." 
 
 Burke smiled. 
 
 '' Well, there are not many people who know 
 about it, but I happen to. It was invented by a 
 woman out in California. It's as easy as falling 
 off a log. You can write a book in keyboard 
 cipher, and any typewriter in. the world can read 
 it, but mighty few can ever get onto it, unless 
 they knew there was such a cipher kicking around 
 the world. Now, look here, Mr. Bonwit," he
 
 THE KEYBOARD CIPHER 187 
 
 went on, "just look at the typewriter. Do you 
 see the keys? Take a mental picture of the ar- 
 rangement of the keys." 
 
 Mr. Bonwit took a mental picture of the ar- 
 rangement of the keys, and that mental picture 
 was like this : 
 
 QWERTYUIOP 
 
 ASDFGHJKL 
 
 Z X C V B N M 
 
 " All you've got to do," resumed Burke, "when 
 you want to use the standard keyboard cipher, is 
 to write out your message correct and plain, and 
 then go over it again, but, instead of using the 
 letters that you used before, use each time the let- 
 ter just ahead. When this person wrote out 
 ' Mfrs.' for Manufacturers, and translated it into 
 the cipher, you see just what he or she did. N 
 on your board comes ahead of M; D ahead of F; 
 E ahead of R; and A ahead of S. The result 
 is you get ' Ndea ' in place of * Mfrs.' So all that 
 you have got to do is to take the letter on 
 the machine that comes after each one in this 
 cipher, and we've got it. You can work it out 
 yourself."
 
 1 88 THE CATSPAW 
 
 And Mr. Bonwit did work it out himself, and r 
 when he had worked it out, this is what he read : 
 
 Mfrs bank main vault 
 one hundred thousand tens 
 twenties dress suit case to-night 
 
 SWEETHEART. 
 
 As he was working it out, however, Major Hoi- 
 brook strolled in to condole with him upon the 
 robbery, for the affair had filtered into the ears 
 of a few of the president's friends. 
 
 "What do you think that cipher is?" asked 
 Mr. Bonwit. 
 
 The Major took it into his hands, placed it 
 close to his eyes, and stared at it close to his 
 glasses. Suddenly he sniffed the air, saying: 
 
 " U'm, blest if I know. What is it, anyway? " 
 
 When Major Holbrook left the bank, he still 
 sniffed the air as he asked himself: 
 
 "Where in thunder have I detected that per- 
 fume before? " 
 
 Later, at the Club, Bonwit turned to Oly- 
 phant : " Do you think St. John can explain these 
 things?"
 
 THE KEYBOARD CIPHER 189 
 
 Olyphant slowly shook his head. " The police 
 are positive of his guilt. It looks queer to me. 
 What's your opinion, Major? " 
 
 Major Holbrook puffed for an instant. " I've 
 watched every case closely. I've watched St. John. 
 It is my study of St. John, not of the crimes, that 
 convinces me there's something queer about it. 
 When he's himself, I believe him honest as the 
 day is long. But he's not always himself. At 
 times he seems to me like a man under the baleful 
 influence of some one else a stronger per- 
 sonality." 
 
 "Whose personality?" queried Bonwit. 
 
 The Major paused before replying. " I think 
 the influence of a woman." 
 
 " Miss Paget's influence is good," protested Mr. 
 Bonwit. 
 
 The Major closed his eyes. " I was not think- 
 ing of Miss Paget," he returned.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 MRS. SHACKLETON'S MATCHED PEARL NECKLACE 
 
 IN her studio in the cupola, Roxane paced irritably 
 to and fro. It was a trifle past the hour that St. 
 John was due at " The Ivies " the Olyphant 
 homestead, renamed since she had taken up her 
 residence there. One would have gathered that it 
 was, indeed, a welcome guest that she was about 
 to entertain, from the looks of a small table amply 
 provided with glasses, cigarettes, and other ar- 
 ticles of good cheer; but not so; for, a few mo- 
 ments later, St. John, stepping lightly through the 
 window, found her in a difficult mood, and her 
 manner towards him anything but that with which 
 she had received him on former occasions. 
 
 " Roxane," he said at length, glancing toward 
 the still unfinished portrait of Mr. Bonwit, " I 
 note by the papers that the well-executed painting 
 of the Manufacturers' vault door was done upon 
 a canvas that was purchased in San Francisco." 
 And, swinging Bonwit's picture about with its 
 
 back to the light, he added : " I perceive that this 
 
 190
 
 MRS. SHACKLETON'S NECKLACE 191 
 
 one came from New York. It's just as well for us." 
 
 Roxane did not answer him; there was nothing 
 in her that responded now to this tone of levity; 
 instead, she seated herself on her work-bench and 
 leaned toward him, her face tense, her figure 
 rigid, her clenched hands between her knees. 
 
 " Kitt," she began, " I sent for you." 
 
 " Yes," he answered, bracing himself as for 
 some expected shock; " and, as usual, when you 
 send I come." 
 
 " I sent for you," she went on, " to inquire how 
 long you intend to keep up this affair with Doro- 
 thy Paget? Really, I'll not stand any more non- 
 sense from you. My mind is quite made up. I'll 
 put you to the test ..." 
 
 " Put me to any test you will. You don't seem 
 to understand, Roxane, that, although I seem to be 
 making love to another woman, in reality I'm 
 not." 
 
 " Please don't repeat that you've said it al- 
 ready too many times." 
 
 " Some day you will understand," he said, and, 
 walking over to the table, he added with a smile : 
 " You're not very hospitable, Roxane 1 Aren't 
 you going to . . . ? "
 
 1 92 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " Yes," she broke in unexpectedly, ignoring his 
 question, " and I mean to understand in a day not 
 far off; a day fixed and definite." 
 
 "What day?" he asked, helping himself to a 
 glass of Scotch whiskey, which he proceeded to 
 mix into a highball. 
 
 44 The Tony Shackletons' fortnight at Range- 
 ley." 
 
 St. John started. 
 
 44 Are you going to be there? " he inquired. 
 
 44 Certainly. And you? " she returned, lighting 
 a cigarette and letting the smoke come slowly from 
 her mouth. 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " I must be there, but not for two or three days 
 after the start." 
 
 Roxane raised her eyebrows. 
 
 "Why the delay?" she asked, biting through 
 her cigarette with irritation. 
 
 He smiled grimly. 
 
 44 Everybody in town that's anybody is going 
 to be there, Roxane, and everybody that's any- 
 body will shut up his town house for the occasion. 
 That's why I shall be a trifle late." 
 
 44 1 begin to see," she answered, laughing a lit-
 
 MRS. SHACKLETON'S NECKLACE 193 
 
 tie stiffly. "Every town house will yield its re- 
 ward for your tardiness, I suppose." There was 
 a pause. Presently she asked: "Whose town 
 house have you picked out, Kitt?" 
 
 " I was leaving that for you to say," he said 
 briefly. 
 
 ' You honour me. And yet I think I can pick 
 out at least one that will repay you. ..." 
 
 "Whose?" 
 
 " That I shall have to let you know later. 
 Meantime " and she leaned once more toward 
 him, regarding him with the strange expression on 
 her face with which she had welcomed him when 
 he came " meantime, let me ask you a question: 
 You know Rangeley, the Tony Shackletons' coun- 
 try place?" 
 
 11 No, I don't." 
 
 " Well, Rangeley is the place of trysts a place 
 where many matches have been made. I warn 
 you right here against any trysts with anybody but 
 myself." 
 
 St. John looked down at her quickly and caught 
 a glimpse of the danger that lurked in her eyes. 
 
 " It will be a sort of Eden for you and me," 
 she went on quietly. " When every one is away
 
 i 9 4 THE CATSPAW 
 
 you and I can rove unseen through the wilder- 
 nesses. It's our chance, Kitt, the first we have had 
 since " she drew a long sigh " since well, 
 three years and more ago." 
 
 " But, Roxie, we must not be seen together. 
 Don't you see I can't ..." 
 
 "I see," she sneered; "you don't want Doro- 
 thy Paget to . . . " 
 
 " Nothing of the kind ! " he broke in hotly. 
 " You don't understand, you won't understand 
 that ..." 
 
 " There's just this about the matter," Roxane 
 persisted stubbornly, " if you can't make love to 
 me openly, then I shall see to it that you make 
 love to no one else. If you do, what happens after- 
 wards is on your head." 
 
 They Roxane, Tony Shackleton, and Mrs. 
 Tony were sitting on the veranda of Oakleigh, 
 the country-seat of the Shackletons at Rangeley, 
 when the latter suddenly held up her hands and 
 cried out excitedly: 
 
 " Tony, I've done a most tremendously stupid 
 thing! I've left my necklace in the house in 
 town I "
 
 MRS. SHACKLETON'S NECKLACE 195 
 
 "Which necklace?" demanded Roxane, with 
 a slight twitch of her eyelids. 
 
 " Why, that beautiful matched pearl one that 
 Tony gave me ! I should have put it in the safe- 
 deposit vault. How stupid of me I " 
 
 " But," ventured her husband, with unruffled 
 calm, " you did lock it in your boudoir safe, I 
 hope?" 
 
 " Most assuredly, yes, that part is all right. But 
 boudoir safes are no longer safe; are they, Rox- 
 ane? Especially since our friend Kitt has been so 
 active." She laughed heartily. 
 
 " Poor Kitt," sighed Tony. " If there were 
 
 a dozen murders in M , they would all be laid 
 
 at his door, and just because a couple of num- 
 skull detectives imagined they saw him rob a 
 bank." 
 
 " But don't you think it wise, my dear, to go 
 back into town or to have Tony go back and get 
 the necklace?" inquired Roxane, with studied 
 concern. 
 
 Tony yawned. 
 
 "Not on your life!" he exclaimed genially. 
 " I'm too comfortable out here in Rangeley look- 
 ing at you, my dear Roxane. Besides," he added,
 
 i 9 6 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " I don't know Mrs. Tony's combination, and, 
 what's more, I don't want to know it. Why, the 
 town would be accusing me next of stealing my 
 rich wife's jewels ! " 
 
 Roxane rose, and, seating herself on the wicker 
 ottoman next to Mrs. Tony, suggested that Mrs. 
 Tony either go back and remedy the fault or have 
 her servants attend to the matter. 
 
 " My servants ! Why, Roxane, what are you 
 thinking of? I wouldn't let them know that that 
 necklace was in my bedroom safe for the world! 
 I'll take a chance that nothing happens nothing 
 ever happens to us; does it, Tony dear? " 
 
 " I jolly well wish that something would hap- 
 pen to us," grumbled her husband. " That re- 
 minds me," he went on, " when is Kittredge St. 
 John going to confer his presence on us? He'll 
 wake us up, dear old Kitt! " 
 
 " Not if Dorothy Paget is around," glibly re- 
 turned his wife. " They'll simply take themselves 
 to some cosey nook and never leave it until why, 
 Kitt used to have some life in him, but he has 
 no eyes and no voice for anybody but Dorothy. 
 This love-making, Roxane, is a wonderful thing. 
 Before I married Tony, I . . . "
 
 MRS. SHACKLETON'S NECKLACE 197 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, Roxane," broke in Tony, 
 " don't you fall in love ! . . . " 
 
 The widow emitted a little scream. 
 
 " Oh, but I have, haven't I? So rumour says, 
 anyhow." 
 
 ' You're welcome to Bonwit," continued Tony, 
 " if you'll only be yourself; but St. John certainly 
 has forgotten that he lives." 
 
 " Life with him, apparently, is one grand sweet 
 dream," interposed Mrs. Tony. 
 
 " I'm real sorry that he's coming down," said 
 Tony. " He'll be an absent-minded beggar from 
 the moment he strikes Oakleigh that's what 
 he'll be." 
 
 It was, perhaps, fifteen minutes later that Rox- 
 ane excused herself and sought her rooms on the 
 next floor. Once there she locked her door and 
 sat down at a little desk and wrote a missive all 
 in cipher, which, if the astute Burke had laid his 
 eyes upon which he never did, would have been 
 translated thus: 
 
 Matched Pearl Necklace worth Fifty Thousand, if a cent, 
 in Mrs. Tony Shackleton's boudoir. The safe is an imita- 
 tion medicine chest in the last room of the suite. New 
 
 design. 
 
 SWEETHEART.
 
 i 9 8 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " So much for the bait," whispered Roxane to 
 herself. " And now, Mr. St. John, it's for you to 
 say whether I shall insert the hook. It's up to 
 you. ..." 
 
 Now she went to her trunk and took from it a 
 bottle of violet ink and a very small gold pen; 
 and, in a perfectly disguised hand, she wrote the 
 following : 
 
 POLICE HEADQUARTERS, 
 
 Town of M . 
 
 Gentlemen: To-morrow night, at nine o'clock, the Tony 
 Shackleton house will be robbed. Kittredge St. John will 
 commit the robbery. He will break into the second-story 
 window in the rear his usual method. In Mrs. Shackle- 
 ton's bedroom there is a safe in which is a matched pearl 
 necklace worth fifty thousand dollars. St. John always knows 
 who and what is in a house he makes no mistakes as to 
 that. Therefore, if you go near Shackletons' to-day, to-night, 
 to-morrow, or to-morrow night, before St. John is within, 
 you will make a mistake. You must wait from a distance 
 neighbouring yards, if you like. Cover every side of the 
 house in the quietest manner, and when he enters, close in 
 upon him. The Shackletons are not at home, as you know. 
 The servants are alone. There's one thing, however, that 
 you don't know: the servants in that house entertain their 
 friends to-morrow night below stairs. You may not know 
 how much they will drink they and their friends, nor what 
 they will drink; Kittredge St. John knows that as well as 
 that at nine o'clock his field will be clear.
 
 MRS. SHACKLETON'S NECKLACE 199 
 
 The hint which I'm furnishing you costs you nothing if 
 you take it ; it may cost you a good deal to disregard it. 
 
 X. Y. Z. 
 
 Burke laid down the letter for it reached him 
 and he read it. He fairly jumped at the possi- 
 bilities it contained. St. John had become his 
 common enemy. Even if the warning were only a 
 joke, it would be one entirely innocuous for 
 Burke already had determined to take the advice 
 of the unknown adviser. 
 
 " The first thing to do," he said to himself, 
 becoming suddenly active, " is to surround that 
 Shackleton house with eyes that see and ears that 
 hear, but that are unseen and unheard by any one." 
 
 The task proved to be not a difficult one. For 
 the Tony Shackletons occupied the end house of 
 
 what the town of M knew as " The Hill " 
 
 a row of six brown-stone houses, honeycombed 
 with huge plate-glass windows, that presented to 
 the eye a phalanx as solid and invulnerable as the 
 aristocracy which they housed within their walls. 
 
 The fateful night found Burke, by methods at 
 which he was an adept, satisfied beyond all ques- 
 tion that there was no stranger within the Shackle- 
 ton gates. So that, as the invisible cordon of un-
 
 200 THE CATSPAW 
 
 seen and unheard sleuths surrounded the house, 
 it was with the certainty that no eye could enter 
 there without their knowledge. 
 
 And, as the evening wore on, Burke began to 
 realise that his unknown informant knew what he 
 or she was talking about. In the basement of the 
 Shackleton house, beginning with the legitimate 
 supper hour, sounds of revelry were heard. Vis- 
 itors were there, not one of whom, by any possi- 
 bility, could have been mistaken for Kittredge 
 St. John; besides, all these were accounted for 
 later. 
 
 As nine o'clock approached, the unseen cordon 
 drew nearer to the house ; and still there was noth- 
 ing of St. John. 
 
 Then, all of a sudden, there was a scream a 
 scream that came from one of the rooms that con- 
 stituted Mrs. Shackleton's suite; and, following 
 the scream, a window was thrown open and 
 the shrill tones of a housemaid issued there- 
 from. 
 
 "Murder! Thieves! Murder! Police! "cried 
 this young woman in hysterical tones. 
 
 In an instant Burke was on the second floor, 
 climbing the stairs with the hilarious group of
 
 MRS. SHACKLETON'S NECKLACE 201 
 
 house-servants, who were somewhat far gone in 
 their libations of the evening. 
 
 Darting into the corridor that led to the boudoir 
 of Mrs. Shackleton, Burke met the housemaid, 
 trembling, laughing hysterically, weeping slightly, 
 and still shrieking for help. He caught her by 
 the arms and held her fast and spoke to her in 
 the only tone that can conquer hysterics the tone 
 of command, of rebuke. 
 
 " What did you see, girl? " he said. " No non- 
 sense ! Tell me quick ! " 
 
 The girl calmed down on the instant. 
 
 " There," she said, pointing toward the inner 
 room, " there I saw him as he opened the safe- 
 saw him as he took the necklace and hid it in his 
 pocket. I saw him do it all! . . ." 
 
 Burke literally dragged her into the bedroom. 
 There was no doubt about it, the clever thief of 
 the town of M - had been once more at work. 
 The safe door, diminutive as it was, stood ajar, 
 and the safe rifled of its contents! 
 
 " You you saw him take the necklace? " ques- 
 tioned Burke. 
 
 "Yes," answered the girl. "It was the 
 Madam's big, white pearl necklace ..."
 
 202 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " An 1 you saw him put it in his pocket? Quick 
 now!" 
 
 " Yes, yes, it was him it was St. John the 
 man that . . ." 
 
 Burke's grip tightened upon her elbows. 
 
 " Are you sure it was Kittredge St. John? " he 
 demanded. " Come now, you're positive ? . . . " 
 
 " Sure. Don't I know the man? " 
 
 " Let no one leave the house ! " roared Burke. 
 " No one can leave the house my men have sur- 
 rounded it. The first man that tries to get away, 
 gets shot." 
 
 For a moment he held the startled, tipsy serv- 
 ants with his glance, scanning the countenance of 
 each in turn; then, leaning from the window, he 
 called in two of his men, and together they ran- 
 sacked the house from top to bottom ; and, as they 
 ransacked it, the truth was borne in upon them 
 that the burglar had been at work for many mo- 
 ments, possibly hours. For not only had he looted 
 the safe, but he had ransacked every bureau 
 drawer, and other likely receptacles. The whole 
 house, as in the twinkling of an eye, seemed to 
 have been turned topsy-turvy; and yet, search as 
 they might, they could not find the culprit.
 
 MRS. SHACKLETON'S NECKLACE 203 
 
 The officers were completely baffled. 
 
 Burke took the maidservant, still in hysterics, 
 down to headquarters and examined her thor- 
 oughly, while his men searched every servant and 
 guest. When it was all over, Burke was com- 
 pelled to admit his defeat. 
 
 14 There's not a ghost of a doubt," said Burke 
 to his superior, " that it was the same chap 
 that pulled off the others! But, whether it 
 was St. John or not, that's another question. 
 But, whoever it is, I'll get him yet or lose my 
 job." 
 
 Burke, in person, took the first train for Range- 
 ley to see the Tony Shackletons. Mrs. Shackle- 
 ton was inconsolable. At length she asked the 
 officer what were his reasons for believing that 
 Mr. St. John was responsible for the act. 
 
 " It can't be any one else," Burke assured her 
 doggedly. 
 
 " Hold on here ! " said Shackleton, after a mo- 
 ment. " What time did this happen? " 
 
 " Some time before nine o'clock. The maid saw 
 him just about the stroke of nine," he explained. 
 
 " It might have happened before, though," 
 suggested Tony Shackleton.
 
 204 THE CATSPAW 
 
 "... any time between seven o'clock and 
 nine o'clock to-night," admitted Burke. 
 
 Shackleton rose and closed the door. 
 
 " St. John is a friend of mine," he said, " and, 
 of course, to me this sounds mighty prepos- 
 terous. But, as the saying goes, ' usually where 
 there's smoke there's fire.' ' There was silence 
 for a moment; then, turning an inquisitorial 
 glance upon his wife, Shackleton went on: 
 " My dear, where was St. John at nine o'clock 
 to-night?" 
 
 Mrs. Tony thought for some time, for her 
 mind, somehow, worked slowly. The fact is, this 
 quiet conversation was being held in the wee sma' 
 hours in Tony's den; they had only just gone to 
 sleep when she was awakened by the officer's 
 arrival. 
 
 " Just a minute, officer," she said, " and I'll tell 
 you. ..." 
 
 " One question, Mr. Shackleton," said Burke. 
 " Was St. John missing at any time durin' the 
 evenin'?" 
 
 Shackleton smiled in a puzzled sort of way. 
 
 u Why, yes that is, he might have been. I 
 saw him take his machine down the road about
 
 MRS. SHACKLETON'S NECKLACE 205 
 
 four o'clock in the afternoon. I don't remember 
 him later. And yet ... " 
 
 " Now I have it ! " suddenly cried Mrs. Tony. 
 ' You and I, Tony, saw Kittredge with some one 
 from sundown until ..." 
 
 'Where did we see him?" broke in her hus- 
 band quickly. 
 
 " Come, let me show you," explained Mrs. 
 Tony, leading them through the deserted and 
 dimly lighted halls. 
 
 They followed her to the big living-room, where 
 she pointed to a corner screened by an artful ar- 
 rangement of furniture. 
 
 " Now you remember, Tony, don't you ? " she 
 went on in positive tones. " They were there for 
 hours. Roxane saw them, too. We talked about 
 it." 
 
 " You're right I remember now. St. John and 
 Miss Paget were together all evening, officer," 
 confirmed her husband. 
 
 "Could he have done it in the afternoon?" 
 suddenly put in his wife. 
 
 Burke slowly shook his head. 
 
 " I think not," he answered. " Of course," he 
 added, " he could have been to town and back
 
 206 THE CATSPAW 
 
 here in no time with that car of his. But it's 
 my opinion that he never got into your house 
 in the afternoon. You're sure that he was 
 here this morning, last night, and the night 
 before?" 
 
 " I'm sure he was," said Mrs. Shackleton. 
 " Just a moment, if you please." She rang a bell; 
 a sleepy servant answered it. " Gorman," said 
 she, "will you see if Mrs. Bellairs has retired? 
 If not, ask her to step here very quietly, if she 
 will." 
 
 Roxane came in directly and submitted to an 
 examination by Burke. At the end he shook his 
 head, saying: 
 
 ' You knew that Mrs. Shackleton's town house 
 was broken into to-night? " 
 
 "What's that?" answered Roxane, surprised 
 out of herself. 
 
 " Was broken into to-night," repeated Burke 
 quietly, " an' a beautiful pearl necklace stolen from 
 the safe along with other things stolen, as I be- 
 lieve, by Mr. St. John." 
 
 There could have been nothing in the world 
 more honest than the glance of absolute astonish- 
 ment that appeared on Roxane's face.
 
 MRS. SHACKLETON'S NECKLACE 207 
 
 " I can't believe surely you don't think it was 
 he . . . ? " she said. 
 
 "... never surer of anything in my life, 
 madam," came from Burke. 
 
 " And you caught him? " she asked, with some- 
 thing like triumph now on her face; but her coun- 
 tenance fell perceptibly upon the officer's reply. 
 
 "Apparently most all of his time here is ac- 
 counted for. It's a puzzle. An' yet I insist that 
 he's the man what's got the goods." 
 
 Mrs. Bellairs returned to her rooms with venge- 
 ful thoughts in her heart and muttering to herself 
 through clenched teeth : 
 
 " How did you get away from me? I thought 
 I'd teach you a lesson that you would not soon 
 forget. I thought that this would be the last 
 time that you'd give Roxane Bellairs the cold 
 shoulder. However, you're not safe yet, Kitt- 
 redge St. John, never fear." 
 
 As for Tony Shackleton, he ordered out the big 
 machine and, unknown to their guests, together 
 with Mrs. Tony and Burke, shot back into town. 
 With Burke at their heels, they entered their town 
 house, pressed swiftly through room after room, 
 examined door after door and window after win-
 
 208 THE CATSPAW 
 
 dow, put their servants through a rigid course of 
 examination, and ended up in being quite as mysti- 
 fied as was Burke himself. 
 
 As they were examining the last room at the 
 top of the house, something caught the eye of 
 Mrs. Shackleton. She had switched off the light 
 in this room, and Burke and Tony already had 
 left it, when in an instant she switched on the light 
 again and called them back. 
 
 " One moment, officer," she said. " Will you 
 help Mr. Shackleton to move this wardrobe? I 
 failed to look behind it." 
 
 " I did," declared Burke, " an' there's nothin' 
 there but wall." 
 
 " I know, but I want to look behind it." 
 
 With many groans on the part of Tony and a 
 few swift shoves on the part of the officer, the 
 wardrobe was moved out ; there was nothing to be 
 seen but wall-paper. 
 
 " Why, this is fresh wall-paper, Mr. Burke," 
 she instantly declared. It was clear to her that 
 it had just been put there. " Don't you see how 
 fresh it is?" she went on, examining its pattern 
 with the eye of one who knew its former 
 appearance.
 
 MRS. SHACKLETON'S NECKLACE 209 
 
 Tony laughed. 
 
 4 Your old wardrobe has been up against it 
 and kept it fresh, my dear. The rest of your 
 room is faded by the light." 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 " I'm satisfied that this is fresh paper," she 
 maintained sturdily; and, going over to it, placed 
 her hand not only upon, but clear through it. It 
 gave way like a shell, or like what it was, wall- 
 paper without any wall behind it. 
 
 Tony looked aghast. 
 
 " Good Heavens, what does it mean?" he ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 With a quick movement, his wife tore away a 
 handful of the wall-paper, and Burke, with an- 
 other quick movement, did the rest. When they 
 had finished, there appeared before them a new, 
 clean aperture in the wall, large enough to admit 
 the body of a child large enough for a clever 
 criminal, if he were clever enough, to worm his 
 way through. 
 
 " Where does it lead? " asked Burke. 
 
 " Why, into the next house," gasped Mrs. Tony. 
 
 " The vacant house ? " asked Burke. 
 
 " Vacant ! " cried Tony. " Yes, it's vacant, but
 
 210 THE CATSPAW 
 
 the Van Cleves' watchman is in there, has been 
 in there looking after the stuff that they've al- 
 ready moved in." 
 
 " Then, the watchman must have done this ! " 
 declared Mrs. Tony. " Nobody else could. . . ." 
 
 Burke turned to Shackleton. 
 
 " Mr. Shackleton," he said, " will you tell a 
 couple of my men to come here. I beg pardon," 
 he quickly corrected, and passed out, returning in 
 an instant with his assistants. 
 
 An instant more and the two men had wriggled 
 through the hole in the wall. Tony tried to wrig- 
 gle through, but failed in the attempt there was 
 too much of him. 
 
 Once in the vacant room, Burke and his men 
 turned their lanterns into every corner and upon 
 the debris that rested underneath the hole. There, 
 piled as neatly as a stack of chips, were the bricks 
 that had been taken from the wall and the mortar 
 that had held them. For the rest, on that floor 
 there was nothing but vacancy and darkness. 
 
 Step by step, with drawn revolvers, Burke and 
 his men examined every inch of this house into 
 which the Van Cleves had already begun to move ; 
 they found the first lot of mahogany furniture on
 
 MRS. SHACKLETON'S NECKLACE 211 
 
 the first floor, but that was all. There was no 
 watchman in fact, they never found the watch- 
 man. 
 
 Burke went back to the girl who had screamed 
 the night before. 
 
 " Girl," he said to her, " you know St. John 
 when you see him; did you also know this watch- 
 man who was taking care next-door?" 
 
 ' Yes," she answered breathlessly. " I knew 
 him, all right; I've seen him for three days." 
 
 Burke held her with his glance. 
 
 " Has he been in the house all these three 
 days? " he queried. 
 
 " Sure. Everybody will tell you that." 
 
 " Did he look like St. John? " went on Burke, 
 although he knew that he did not. 
 
 "Oh, Lor', no!" returned the girl. "Why, 
 that watchman had twice as big a beard as Mr. 
 St. John and twice as big a nose besides, he was 
 twice as big. What's more, he was paralysed 
 down one side. Don't you know, Mr. Burke ? " 
 
 " I do," replied Burke, going carefully over the 
 ground in his mind; and, when he was once more 
 alone, he blinked his eyes in uncertainty. 
 
 "That watchman was around here for three
 
 212 THE CATSPAW 
 
 whole days and night," he told himself. " An' he 
 can't be St. John, because St. John was down at 
 Rangeley. On the other hand, that watchman 
 could never have gotten through that hole up- 
 stairs or do what that fellow did who got through 
 that hole." He shook his head and added, never- 
 theless, a moment later: " Burke, you're still 
 bankin' on St. John 1 "
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 A PURSUIT IN PRIVATE 
 
 " Miss PAGET is not at home, madam." 
 
 The footman and Roxane faced each other in 
 the spacious hallway of the Paget house. 
 
 " Not at home ! " returned Roxane, apparently 
 annoyed, although it was because she knew that 
 Dorothy would not be at home that she had called. 
 
 " But I'm sure that it was this afternoon we 
 were to drive to . . ." she mused in distressed 
 tones ; and, drawing forth from her bag her little 
 note-book, she scanned her list of engagements. 
 " Yes," she went on, nodding with certainty, " it 
 was this afternoon. One of us has made a mis- 
 take." Presently her face brightened, and she 
 added: "Perhaps I'm early she may return at 
 any moment. Didn't she say what time she'd 
 return?" 
 
 "Yes, madam," replied the footman; "she 
 will not return until Thursday afternoon. Is there 
 anything . . . ? " 
 
 Roxane wrinkled her brow. 
 213
 
 2i 4 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " I think not," she responded, " though you 
 might give her my message that is, no," she 
 added as an after-thought, " I shall write her di- 
 rect to-night, I think." 
 
 Whereupon the footman retreated to a silver 
 salver on the table, took from it a card, on which 
 appeared a pencilled memorandum, and handed it 
 to her, remarking: 
 
 "This is Miss Paget's address; she is staying 
 with her cousin there." 
 
 Roxane copied the memorandum literally, which 
 read merely as follows: 
 
 Care of Belleporte Inn, Stormhaven, Conn. 
 
 Returning to her victoria, Roxane gave a brief 
 direction; and, ten minutes later, she was standing 
 at Mrs. Shackleton's reception-room door, being 
 greeted by that lady. 
 
 " Our afternoon to drive, dear," said Roxane. 
 "Had you forgotten?" 
 
 " Forgotten ! " echoed Mrs. Tony. " I thought 
 you were never coming. I've been ready for at 
 least half an hour." 
 
 Roxane drew forth her little note-book, and 
 said :
 
 A PURSUIT IN PRIVATE 215 
 
 " Possibly I am late, but I always keep appoint- 
 ments you will acknowledge that. My little 
 book never makes mistakes." 
 
 " I grant you that, Roxane," conceded Mrs. 
 Shackleton. 
 
 " It's awfully good of you to come," remarked 
 Mrs. Bellairs; "I want cheering up." 
 
 " So do I," responded her guest, " and nobody 
 has come around not even Dorothy. Indeed, I 
 haven't seen her for days and days. She can't 
 be at home." 
 
 Roxane looked her astonishment as she said: 
 
 " I didn't know that she was away." 
 
 " Even Kittredge St. John seems to have ef- 
 faced himself lately," went on Mrs. Tony. '* We 
 like him immensely and he dines with us when he 
 can ; but Tony hasn't been able to rake him up for 
 nights." 
 
 The fascinating Mrs. Bellairs smiled a polite 
 little smile, and observed: 
 
 " Kittredge St. John is always an unknown 
 quantity ; he is here one minute and gone the next. 
 One never knows where to put one's finger on 
 him, so it seems." 
 
 She was quite right. For days she had stifled
 
 216 THE CATSPAW 
 
 an overwhelming passion to see him, to hear his 
 voice, to feel his eyes upon her, until the sus- 
 pense had become unbearable. It was this sus- 
 pense that had driven her to Dorothy's threshold ; 
 and the information derived there had confirmed 
 her fears. She had written to Kittredge, she had 
 called him up; but there was no answer to her 
 letters, and the message over the wire had be- 
 come monotonous: "Mr. St. John is nowhere in 
 the house." At last the conviction had forced it- 
 self upon her that he was nowhere within the 
 town. 
 
 " To find out to find out for sure," thought 
 Roxane to herself, and the phrase kept ringing 
 through her head all during her drive with Mrs. 
 Tony, whose conversation, fortunately, was of 
 the kind that required but little response, for that 
 lady's method of cheering herself up was to find 
 a good listener; and Roxane, on this occasion, cer- 
 tainly answered the purpose, if silence be synony- 
 mous with listening. 
 
 But the drive ended at last. Mrs. Tony ex- 
 pressed herself as being once more toned up; and 
 Roxane hied herself to " The Ivies," locked her- 
 self in a room, and began to plan things.
 
 A PURSUIT IN PRIVATE 217 
 
 14 To find out for sure," she said aloud, consult- 
 ing a long list of addresses with which Kitt had 
 once furnished her. Finally she selected The Dav- 
 enport Detective Agency, 140 Broadway, New 
 York. To be sure, it was the first time she had 
 ever thought of enlisting aid of this legitimate 
 character men of this ilk, in general, were her 
 traditional enemies as well as Kitt's and the list 
 which he had furnished was for purposes of eva- 
 sion, and not employment. However, that made 
 the thing seem to her all the safer. 
 
 She immediately sat down and wrote a telegram 
 to the detective agency. It read as follows: 
 
 Meet me your office ten o'clock to-night. 
 
 MRS. X. 
 
 Before sending it, however, she decided upon a 
 preliminary course of conduct. She sat down at 
 her telephone and called up Kitt's apartment- 
 house. 
 
 " Wait a minute, I'll connect you," said the boy 
 at the other end. 
 
 " Is he there? " she demanded. 
 
 " Don't know but I'll connect you, anyway," 
 returned the boy.
 
 2i 8 THE CATSPAW 
 
 He did so; and, much to her surprise, a voice 
 broke in immediately upon the wire a voice that 
 she could have sworn was Kitt's. 
 
 " Hello who's this? " he called. 
 
 Roxane did not answer. She was not certain 
 just what to do; moreover, the wire buzzed badly. 
 If it were Kitt's voice, and if Kitt were at the 
 other end, well and good. She felt sure that he 
 would come to her if she asked him to. And 
 yet, that wouldn't satisfy the doubts within 
 her. The little devils kept pronging her, 
 and immediately her rich soprano voice swung 
 into an alto. 
 
 " I want to speak to Mr. St. John," she said. 
 
 Kitt's voice she was sure it was Kitt's now 
 answered : 
 
 " Why, he's in fact, he's out of town." 
 
 " Can you tell me where? " 
 
 There was an instant's hesitation at the other 
 end of the wire, and then her question was an- 
 swered with a question. 
 
 " Who is this inquiring, if you please? " 
 
 ' This is Miss Paget talking," said Roxane. 
 
 Something like an exclamation seemed to drift 
 over the wire, and then went on the voice :
 
 A PURSUIT IN PRIVATE 219 
 
 1 That's funny, Miss Paget I beg your par- 
 don, but Mr. St. John has been away for several 
 days, and ..." 
 
 " Can I reach him by letter?" asked Roxane, 
 now thoroughly convinced that Kitt was talking 
 to her. 
 
 " He's somewhere in Connecticut, Miss Paget." 
 
 "Not at Stormhaven?" 
 
 14 Why, yes, I believe that is the place." 
 
 " He's not at the Belleporte Inn?" again que- 
 ried Roxane, her tones still well disguised. 
 
 "That's the place, Miss Paget," returned the 
 voice. 
 
 Roxane threw discretion to the winds. 
 
 " That's queer very queer," she murmured. 
 " Why, I'm at the Belleporte myself, and I haven't 
 seen anything of Mr. St. John." 
 
 "The deuce you say!" cried Kitt's voice. 
 "Why, are you sure?" Some strange emotion 
 seemed to agitate the well-modulated voice, and 
 Roxane took quick note of it. " Aren't you mis- 
 taken, Miss Paget ? " he went on. " I'm quite 
 sure that Mr. St. John has been there is there 
 now; aren't you? " 
 
 The last two words disturbed Roxane's equa-
 
 220 THE CATSPAW 
 
 nimity; moreover, they seemed ironical, though, 
 perhaps, they were not intended to be. 
 
 " Not quite sure," she answered crisply. 
 
 " Because," went on Kitt, " I had him on the 
 wire at the Belleporte not five minutes ago. 
 Really, is this Miss Dorothy Paget or some 
 other Miss Paget? " 
 
 " It's Miss Paget," returned Roxane icily. 
 " But, pray, who are you? " 
 
 There was no hesitation at the other end. 
 
 " This is the day clerk," said the same 
 voice. 
 
 Roxane rang off. She was in a rage not only 
 with herself, but with Kitt. Why had she done 
 this thing? Had Kitt recognised her voice? Was 
 he making fun of her? What did it all mean, 
 anyway ? 
 
 " I'll call him up again, at any rate," said Rox- 
 ane to herself, " and tell him who I am, and have 
 it out with him." 
 
 Again she got the apartment-house on the wire, 
 and again the boy answered and said he would 
 connect her, which he did. But this time without 
 result there was no Kitt at the other end of the 
 wire.
 
 A PURSUIT IN PRIVATE 221 
 
 " Can't get him," said the boy. " It's no 
 use . . ." 
 
 ; ' There is use," retorted Roxane, now quite des- 
 perate, " and I'm sure he's there. Try again." 
 
 The boy tried again and again, but with the 
 same result. 
 
 " Give me the clerk, then," said Roxane. 
 
 Whereupon the clerk came to the 'phone, and, 
 to Roxane's dismay, his voice was as different from 
 the voice of Kitt as the night is from the day. 
 The day clerk also tried, but also failed in getting 
 Mr. St. John. 
 
 " He's not in the house, madam," at length he 
 informed her; " and, to tell you the truth, I think 
 he's out of town, though he may be back at any 
 time. Who shall I say called him up, please? " 
 
 " Don't say," was Roxane's enigmatic answer, 
 and rang off. 
 
 A moment later she sent her telegram to New 
 York. It was ten o'clock to the second when a 
 heavily veiled woman entered the building at No. 
 140 Broadway, New York. She had, indeed, 
 chosen well the place and time. Broadway was 
 deserted, and, save for the light in the three win- 
 dows of Davenport's Detective Agency on the
 
 222 THE CATSPAW 
 
 third floor at No. 140, that building also was 
 practically deserted. The elevators, of course, 
 were not running, and Roxane slowly climbed the 
 steps. She was glad to do so, for it gave her voice 
 a breathless tinge when she reached the office. 
 Once inside, however, she glanced about her 
 anxiously, but was quite reassured when she noted 
 that but one man occupied the office a man at a 
 desk in a far corner, one that she had never seen 
 before. The man was half-asleep, and it was quite 
 apparent that he had stayed there for one pur- 
 pose only: to see her, in accordance with her 
 telegram. 
 
 The man placed a chair, and said as he looked 
 her over : 
 
 " Have a seat, lady." 
 
 Roxane seated herself, but did not lift her veil. 
 
 '' What can we do for you? " queried the man. 
 
 Roxane did not answer at once. In fact, for 
 the first time, her purpose began to flag. 
 
 " I I hardly know how to tell you," she an- 
 swered in a voice filled with agitation. " Let me 
 think a little." 
 
 Then, step by step, she went over the ground, 
 knowing full well that what she was doing held
 
 A PURSUIT IN PRIVATE 223 
 
 not only danger for Kitt, but danger for herself 
 as well the danger in directing the attention of 
 a detective upon her and Kitt. And yet, it was 
 better to have the suspense over; she couldn't go 
 back to the hours of anguish; she must go on. 
 
 She drew forth a photograph and passed it to 
 Davenport's man. 
 
 " Do you know that man? " she asked. 
 
 She watched his face carefully for any sign of 
 recognition, and sighed with relief when there was 
 none. 
 
 " No, I certainly do not," returned the other. 
 
 Roxane produced her purse. 
 
 " I am willing to pay," she began. 
 
 The man nodded. 
 
 " You want unusual secrecy, I understand." 
 
 " Yes. If I am right, it won't matter so much, 
 perhaps, but if I am wrong ..." 
 
 " In either case you can trust me. We've got 
 a man who was intended for a clam, he's so tight. 
 But where do we pick up the clue? " 
 
 " There's nothing difficult about that," went on 
 Roxane. "The man is supposed to be at The 
 Belleporte, Stormhaven, Conn. He will probably 
 be there until Thursday of this week."
 
 224 THE CATSPAW 
 
 The detective poised his pencil delicately in the 
 air. 
 
 " With a lady? " he queried pleasantly and pro- 
 fessionally, for he assumed this to be a matter of 
 divorce. 
 
 " That is immaterial," returned Roxane shortly. 
 " What I want is this : I want your man to go 
 there stay there find him there, if he can. If 
 he's there, then your man must stick to him like a 
 leech know his every movement until he comes 
 back." 
 
 " Our man was cut out for a leech," commented 
 the detective. 
 
 " Let me warn you about one thing," said Rox- 
 ane; " this man you are about to follow is sharper 
 than any man on your whole force make no mis- 
 take about that. Moreover, your man must never 
 be suspected; he will be tricked if he is. He must 
 be invisible. . . ." 
 
 " Madam," said the detective impressively, 
 " he's a cross between a shadow and a ghost. 
 We'll fix it for you. Where do we re- 
 port?" 
 
 Roxane had a private telephone number and a 
 private wire in M . And much as she would
 
 A PURSUIT IN PRIVATE 225 
 
 have preferred to keep her whereabouts unknown, 
 nevertheless she gave this number to the agency. 
 
 " And there's one other thing," she added, just 
 before leaving; " you want the fastest car in town. 
 This man has a machine that is part and parcel 
 of him. He is here one instant, and the Lord only 
 knows where, the next." 
 
 " What make is his car? " queried the detective. 
 
 " I couldn't tell you," faltered Roxane, with 
 
 memories of Champenois et Cie. lingering in her 
 
 mind. " But but it's a racer a very rapid one." 
 
 The detective grunted. 
 
 " We've got a car that's a cross between a flash 
 of lightning and a wireless message. It'll do- 
 believe me there ain't no car that can beat it." 
 
 " What make is it? " asked Roxane, eyeing the 
 agent curiously. 
 
 The detective flipped the photograph over on 
 its face, and then he answered. 
 
 " It's a Hermes, made by Champenois," he in- 
 formed her, as he bowed her out. " Our man gets 
 on the job to-night, and reports to you twice a 
 day. Good-night I " 
 
 The following day Roxane received a telephone 
 message over her private wire.
 
 226 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " We've reckoned up your man," said a voice, 
 so like the voice of the man in the Davenport of- 
 fice that she wondered if he, himself, was the clam 
 and the leech and the cross between the shadow 
 and the ghost. " Looks just like the picture. 
 Spotted his car can't tell its make." 
 
 " That's the man," quickly returned Roxane. 
 "And where is he?" 
 
 " Playing tennis on the grounds with a Miss 
 Paget. He's with her most of the time; eats at 
 her table at the Inn; golfs with her; rides with 
 her." 
 
 " How long has he been there? " 
 
 " Long as she has; at least, that's the report I 
 get from a dozen different sources." 
 
 Roxane's mind went back to her last telephone 
 conversation with Kitt's apartment. 
 
 " Has he been there all the time ? " she queried. 
 
 " My report is that he has, but I'm not quite 
 sure. His blamed car is in use off and on and 
 it ain't everybody that knows about his move- 
 ments." 
 
 Roxane was not satisfied, and she asked : 
 
 " But was he there all day yesterday after- 
 noon and evening? "
 
 A PURSUIT IN PRIVATE 227 
 
 " I'm pretty sure he was," returned the sleuth. 
 ' Tell you how it was : his car went out about 
 five him and the girl. Lots of other cars went 
 out, too. Crowd went over to the Lodge for sup- 
 per his car getting there about five-thirty, 
 and, so far's the car's concerned, it stayed there 
 until eleven-thirty, and then he drove the girl home. 
 Meantime ..." 
 
 'Yes, what of him?" came eagerly from 
 Roxane. 
 
 " Accounts differ. Some of the waiters saw 
 him ; others missed him at odd times. But there's 
 lots of balconies and such ever been to the Lodge 
 out here? I know it like a book, and, whether he 
 was in the Lodge or out of it off and on, can't say. 
 But he did take the girl there and bring her away. 
 I got here at four this morning, and I'm looking 
 at him now." 
 
 There were other reports during the day, ail 
 more or less of the same nature. And there was 
 no question but that Kitt St. John had taken ad- 
 vantage of opportunity was playing freely a 
 double game with herself and Dorothy Paget ! She 
 had gone so far in her private conversation with 
 Davenport's man as to inquire specifically into evi-
 
 228 THE CATSPAW 
 
 dences of the sentimental attitude of the man un- 
 der surveillance. Davenport's man had said, with 
 the ring of truth in his voice, that every day he 
 had seen, while looking down a woodland path 
 near the Inn, what appeared to be at one time a 
 kiss, and at another time a kiss and a hug. 
 
 " Which," confided Davenport's agent, " ain't 
 just the way a married man should act when he's 
 away from home. I'll leave it to you, Mrs. St. 
 John, if it is?" 
 
 Roxane silently agreed with him, but informed 
 him, curtly, that she was not Mrs. St. John, and 
 that it was immaterial as to whether Mr. St. John 
 was a married man. 
 
 "However, there's one thing that I want to 
 know. How long does it take from New York to 
 Stormhaven?" she asked. 
 
 "In a Hermes?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " I did it, early morning, in an hour." 
 
 Roxane was puzzled. 
 
 '' There must be something about Kitt's car," 
 she told herself, " that I don't understand. More- 
 over, there's something about him that I'll never 
 understand, either."
 
 A PURSUIT IN PRIVATE 229 
 
 It was on Wednesday morning that she got 
 a hurried ring, and the agent's voice sounded once 
 more in her ear. 
 
 "They're off to Boston," he said breathlessly; 
 " him and the girl in his car, and some cousins 
 in another car. They're going to spend to-night 
 and part of to-morrow at the Touraine; then to 
 Brookline for a few hours, and after that home. 
 Good-bye! I'm off in the Hermes to reckon 
 them up ! " 
 
 Three hours later there was another hurried 
 ring, and a voice still more breathless commanded 
 her attention. 
 
 " This is Davenport's man," gasped the voice. 
 " I'm having hard, hard luck, lady chased 'em all 
 right, fine, until they swung onto the Boston road 
 they're on it now somewhere's away ahead a 
 bunch of 'em, with his car in the lead! But I've 
 been walking for eight miles steady." 
 
 "Walking?" she echoed. 
 
 " Yes, Hermes broke down worked like Satan 
 to fix it, but couldn't. Other cars stopped and 
 tried to fix it, too, but nobody could and there 
 was not a telephone for miles. Just got here, 
 however, and 'phoned to let you know that I was
 
 230 THE CATSPAW 
 
 still game. I'll pick up the trail at the Touraine 
 in Boston to-night, sure, and call you up again. 
 I'll have to take a train in unless I can get another 
 car, you see." 
 
 Roxane was beside herself. 
 
 " Be sure you get the trail again ! " she cried. 
 
 For a long time after she had hung up the re- 
 ceiver, Roxane sat musing upon the certainty that 
 Kitt had fastened his affections upon Dorothy 
 Paget; and, as she sat, she became conscious of a 
 peculiar sensation that she was not alone. She 
 looked uncertainly about her, but nothing was un- 
 usual; then suddenly in the cupola above for the 
 cupola was directly over her boudoir she heard 
 the stealthy footsteps of a man at least, she 
 thought she did and started for the winding 
 staircase in the next room, to determine whether 
 any one might be above; but, before she reached 
 it, the telephone bell called her back. 
 
 " Lady, lady," called the sleuth's voice over 
 the wire, " good news, good news ! I 'phoned 
 ahead to find out where they were, and what do 
 you think? One of their cars broke down on 
 ahead, about two hours or more ago ! " 
 
 " His car? "
 
 A PURSUIT IN PRIVATE 231 
 
 "No, somebody else's, and the whole crowd 
 stopped and are trying to fix it. They're at it 
 
 now." 
 
 " Is he at it now, also? " 
 
 "The report I get is that the whole crowd is 
 stopped, so I suppose he's stopped, too." 
 
 " Follow them as soon as you can keep him 
 in sight ! " cried Roxane quite aloud, and, hanging 
 up the receiver, started to go; but, as she did so, 
 she started back in fright, for a man was standing 
 at her side. 
 
 " Keep whom in sight? " queried the man pleas- 
 antly. " What are you up to now, Roxane, my 
 dear?" 
 
 Roxane clutched his arm to see if he was real, 
 for the man was none other than Kittredge St. 
 John! 
 
 " Just dropped in to make you a little call," he 
 said. " I'm glad to find you in."
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE LEOPARD'S SPOTS 
 
 NOTWITHSTANDING that Miss Dorothy Paget 
 kept with her, as a companion, an aged aunt, she 
 was the mistress of her own home, where she en- 
 tertained, not lavishly but very well. Consequently, 
 on her reception nights her house was sure to be 
 crowded. However, with the exception of one 
 large reception, St. John had never attended any 
 of her functions, pleading always some excuse ; and 
 it was with some little difficulty that she finally 
 prevailed upon him to attend her last little din- 
 ner of the season. 
 
 The dinner was about half-over. People had 
 begun to talk volubly as they always do once the 
 ice is broken and their appetites have somewhat 
 abated. 
 
 " It's absurd ! " one man was saying. " The po- 
 lice claim they can't stop it! But they don't put 
 a stop to it for the reason that they don't half try. 
 Why, Tony Shackleton's makes the fifteenth on 
 
 the list ! And who knows how many never come 
 
 232
 
 THE LEOPARD'S SPOTS 233 
 
 to light 1 I shouldn't wonder if it were the same 
 fellow, for he works in the self-same way every 
 time. By George, I'd ..." 
 
 "Well," broke in another, "the banks have 
 got several parties under surveillance, and 
 I'm told they've narrowed it down to one 
 
 man." 
 
 "And then again they say," interposed an- 
 other, " that that's all tommyrot that they haven't 
 found him, after all." 
 
 " I suppose," volunteered a woman, turning to 
 St. John, "you've heard about Mrs. Bradley- 
 Coates, haven't you, Mr. St. John? " 
 
 St. John shook his head. 
 
 I rarely read the papers," he told her, with 
 some embarrassment, " and I-I really have heard 
 but little about anything of interest in the . 
 My time is so taken up that I have little < 
 
 give to the daily news . . 
 ' h it wasn't in the newspapers! "interrupted 
 
 the woman. '< They kept it out. It was one 
 night, about a week ago, as Mr. and Mrs Bradley- 
 Coates were eating dinner in their own house 
 their own house, mind you 1 "-this as though 
 W ould have been quite a matter of course had I
 
 234 THE CATSPAW 
 
 been in somebody else's house. " While they were 
 eating dinner, they heard some sort of a noise 
 outside, and, as she looked over her husband's 
 shoulder, there was a man's face staring into the 
 room. She couldn't see the face well," she went 
 on excitedly, " because his coat-collar was turned 
 up, and the lower part was entirely concealed. 
 Anyhow, he disappeared. They called the serv- 
 ants and raised an alarm, and by that time, of 
 course, he had gotten well away. Later, however, 
 they found the ivy vine on the side of the house 
 all torn and broken and the marks of feet around 
 the window. That's all they never found him, 
 nor . . ." 
 
 " And nothing was taken? " spoke up some one 
 incredulously. 
 
 The woman smiled; she had been waiting for 
 that inquiry. 
 
 " Nothing much," she replied, " only every bit 
 of jewelry that Mrs. Bradley-Coates had in the 
 house and you know what that means. You know 
 how much she wore! Nobody knows how much 
 they were worth certainly a fortune in them- 
 selves." She stopped suddenly. " Why why, 
 Ethel, what's the matter?"
 
 THE LEOPARD'S SPOTS 235 
 
 " Oh," exclaimed a girl-guest tremulously, her 
 face growing paler every second, " I'm I'm so 
 frightened ! Just as you were talking I looked at 
 the window, and there, outside there there 
 there ..." She pointed wildly with her hand, 
 and then reeled against her neighbour, and fainted 
 away. 
 
 St. John sprang to the window, threw it open, 
 and looked out; there was nothing to be seen; 
 everything was quiet. Then he and two other 
 men stepped outside and investigated; they found 
 nothing in the least suspicious. 
 
 In the meantime the servants had ransacked the 
 house from top to bottom, and found no one 
 even Miss Paget's jewels were intact. 
 
 The dinner was resumed, the girl who had 
 fainted concluding with the rest that she had been 
 scared and that the whole thing was the result of 
 her imagination. Order was restored, and the 
 subject of the burglaries dropped. 
 
 Only one man had the right of the affair, and 
 his conversation on the corner of the street ex- 
 plained it. 
 
 " By George ! " exclaimed Burke, for it was 
 he, " I've had a narrow escape! Somebody saw
 
 236 THE CATSPAW 
 
 me lookin' in the window an' pretty near nabbed 
 me ! That would have been rich ! " He waited 
 a few minutes to determine whether there was 
 any effort at pursuit; presently he went on: " But 
 he's there, all right, all right, an' he won't get 
 away without Jimmy Burke astern ! You can bet 
 your bottom dollar on that, Stumpy, to any tune 
 you please." 
 
 The Paget function, however, seemed to have 
 been destined to be interrupted. For it was 
 not very long before the butler brought in a 
 note for Mr. St. John; and St. John, taking 
 it and reading it quickly, immediately sought 
 out his hostess to make his excuses, ending 
 with: 
 
 " It's half-past eleven, and I must be off at 
 once. Sorry to . . ." 
 
 "What what's the matter?" she inquired 
 anxiously. 
 
 " I don't know," he said, with a shake of the 
 head. " I thought that to-night I would be free, 
 but it seems . . . Here's the note; you may 
 read it, if you will." 
 
 Dorothy started imperceptibly as she glanced 
 at it; then she read as follows:
 
 THE LEOPARD'S SPOTS 237 
 
 MY DEAR ST. JOHN: 
 
 Be at the Iroquois Club at twelve o'clock if possible. Some 
 friends of yours will be there between twelve and half-past 
 two. Don't fail us. 
 
 The note was unsigned. When she had finished 
 reading it, she inquired somewhat uneasily: 
 
 " What does it mean ? " 
 
 " I don't know," he told her, a mystified look 
 on his face. 
 
 " I'm sorry awfully sorry that you must go," 
 she declared, concealing well the annoyance that 
 she felt. 
 
 " So am I, Dorothy. I hate to leave you un- 
 protected. These robberies that they talked about 
 to-night are serious, it seems. You must be care- 
 ful to keep the house well locked up, for, if any- 
 thing were to happen to you " he turned pale as 
 he spoke " if anything were to happen to you, 
 I don't know what I'd do." 
 
 The girl looked up into his eyes with a reas- 
 suring smile. 
 
 " You need not fear for me, for we are quite 
 safe here. The coachman," she explained, " can 
 be summoned in an instant; and William, our old 
 butler, sleeps downstairs. Then, my aunt sleeps
 
 2 3 8 THE CATSPAW 
 
 in the front room and I in one of the back ones 
 the one at the corner " she indicated it with a 
 gesture " and one of the maids is on the same 
 floor within calling distance. Our house is well 
 exposed and we've never had any trouble; we 
 never expect to, either. Nothing will nothing 
 can happen, I'm sure." 
 
 St. John bowed and gravely observed: 
 
 " I sincerely trust not." 
 
 ' You will come to-morrow? " she asked as he 
 was leaving. 
 
 'Yes," he replied; and the next moment he 
 was gone. 
 
 Dorothy had started to return to her guests 
 when she discovered that she had unwittingly re- 
 tained possession of the note. She rushed back 
 and threw open the door, even calling after him; 
 but to no purpose; he was already beyond calling 
 distance. She closed the door and stood uncer- 
 tainly beneath the light and re-read the note, a 
 troubled expression settling upon her face as she 
 did so; and then, instead of returning to her guests, 
 she ran lightly' up the stairs to her room. 
 
 It was a singular thing that, as long as she had 
 known him, Dorothy had received from St. John
 
 THE LEOPARD'S SPOTS 239 
 
 but two letters, and these had come within a fort- 
 night. 
 
 Opening the drawer of her dressing-table, she 
 took the letters out, opened them, and compared 
 them carefully with the note which had come for 
 St. John that night. Suddenly, with a little cry, 
 she exclaimed: " What can it all mean what does 
 it mean ? " For she had found that the note of 
 to-night was written in the same hand as were 
 the other two in the handwriting of Kittredge 
 St. John ! 
 
 It was, indeed, a very perplexed hostess who 
 returned to her guests some minutes later. 
 
 Meanwhile, St. John headed straight for his 
 apartment in the Elberon, which he reached and 
 entered with alacrity; some time later he came out, 
 and directed his steps apparently toward the Iro- 
 quois Club, the three men keeping him well in 
 sight in their endeavour to camp upon his trail. 
 
 St. John's departure from the Paget house, 
 however, seemed to have acted as a sort of signal 
 for the premature termination of the evening's 
 festivities, for, one by one, the guests began to 
 make ready to go. So that, within half an hour, 
 the lights on the ground floor had been extin-
 
 2 4 o THE CATSPAW 
 
 guished, and Dorothy, seeking at once the privacy 
 of her own room, threw herself into a large chair 
 facing one of the two side windows. She was in 
 no mood to sleep, not only because the night was 
 sultry and close, for the night was dark and 
 there was no moon, but because of something 
 that made her wakeful, preyed upon her mind. 
 
 "What does it mean? What can it mean?" 
 she repeated to herself over and over again. 
 
 Presently she lit a small lamp and placed it 
 upon her dressing-table, and once more she scanned 
 the three letters. There was no further doubt in 
 her mind that they were all in the same hand- 
 writing; and mysterious as they were in text for 
 they contained no hidden word of endearment, 
 she read and re-read them many times. Finally 
 she swept the letters into a drawer, extinguished 
 the light, and once more sank into her place by 
 the eastern window. 
 
 Why was it, she asked herself, that this man, 
 who had thus come into her life, had clothed him- 
 self in mystery? 
 
 Yet she still had faith in him. But she could 
 not know that outside in the garden at that very 
 moment, concealed by the shrubbery that sur-
 
 THE LEOPARD'S SPOTS 241 
 
 rounded the house, there stood a man a man who 
 was a part of the chaotic blackness of the night, 
 whose skin may have been white, but, if it were, 
 it did not show, for he wore a black mask and 
 dark-coloured gloves, black clothes with coat-collar 
 well turned up a man who had a keen ear, 
 which he was using to the best advantage as 
 he waited for absolute quiet to reign within the 
 house. 
 
 Finally he made an imperceptible movement, 
 and somewhere within his apparel a small bell 
 struck the hour; he sighed with relief. 
 
 " I'll try it now," he said softly to himself. But 
 still he did not move. " Let me see," he mused. 
 " I want to get this straight. I must make no 
 mistakes . . . There are six people in the 
 house," he continued, checking them off on his 
 fingers as he spoke : " The girl, the old lady, the 
 man, and three servants. The three servants are 
 on the upper floor but they sleep and don't count 
 they never do; the man is on the ground floor 
 that eliminates him; the old lady is in the front 
 room too far off to be dangerous; that leaves 
 no one but the girl to face and if she hears me, 
 why, then I can get away in time, at any rate.
 
 2 4 2 THE CATSPAW 
 
 The thing seems safe safer than many others. 
 . . . Here goes ! " he ended briefly, moving 
 toward an open space of eighteen feet between 
 the shrubbery and the house, and disappearing 
 from view beneath the bushes, only to emerge an 
 instant later from the protection of the leaves; and 
 now, by means of some clever burglar trick, he 
 wriggled half-prostrate across the open space. 
 
 To the woman in the room above, he was 
 merely a passing shadow, a bit darker than the 
 others, perhaps, but nothing more. 
 
 Once across, however, the man became to all 
 appearances a portion of the house. He was not 
 one to do things at random, and in this instance 
 he had most carefully acquainted himself with 
 the details of the job before him, to say nothing 
 of his being an expert in this line. 
 
 Night after night he had lurked in the vicinity 
 of this house, alert and wide-awake to everything 
 that went on, not only on the outside, but likewise 
 in the inside, alert as well to the habits of its oc- 
 cupants. He had even determined the exact loca- 
 tion of his booty, and, if surprised, he knew just 
 which way to run. 
 
 Outside a policeman swung along with easy
 
 THE LEOPARD'S SPOTS 243 
 
 gait. He stopped and peered a moment into the 
 shrubbery, and then passed on. 
 
 The man alongside the house breathed a sigh 
 of relief. Suddenly he shook with uncontrollable 
 but silent laughter. 
 
 " I presume," he remarked softly to himself, 
 " that Burke and his gang are still watching for 
 me at the Iroquois. I must go around there and 
 take a look at them when I get through." 
 
 Prepared for all emergencies, quickly now he 
 proceeded to force his way through a cellar win- 
 dow; and, having accomplished this, he crept into 
 the house, dropping to the cellar floor, closing 
 and fastening the window behind him. There 
 was no trace of him or his work left without; all 
 that he had now to fear were the occupants of 
 the house. 
 
 " This is a cinch ! " he muttered underneath his 
 breath. 
 
 But it proved to be not so much of a cinch as 
 he had thought: he had to break an entrance 
 through three doors before he stood upon the 
 ground floor. Once there, however, he felt his 
 way cautiously to the pantry where he knew the 
 butler slept. The door was wide open, and a
 
 244 THE CATSPAW 
 
 gas-jet in the room was turned down low. Loud 
 snores proceeded from the bed; the butler lay 
 upon his back, his mouth wide open. The man 
 with the black mask was pleased to note that 
 much. 
 
 It is said that the chloroforming burglar is a 
 myth, or, if not a myth, a failure. Chloroform 
 gags and stifles and is bound to waken its victim. 
 But the man in the black mask knew his business : 
 He was ready for the gasp, the cough, the gurgle, 
 and anticipated the fact that his victim would 
 wake. 
 
 Listening carefully to the respiration, he 
 grasped his man by the throat each time there 
 was an expulsion of air, and sprayed the vapour 
 down his throat as he released his grasp. There 
 was a struggle there was bound to be but the 
 butler was no match for the iron muscles and 
 trained science of the man in black; and the strug- 
 gles became fainter and fainter, until the man on 
 the bed succumbed. 
 
 For ten minutes the burglar kept his chloro- 
 form-cone in place over the other's face, and then 
 deftly gagged him and tied him hand and foot 
 to the bed whereon he lay.
 
 THE LEOPARD'S SPOTS 245 
 
 Then he stole softly upstairs. 
 
 Every bedroom door was locked the recent 
 burglaries having made everybody timorous. 
 
 " It's just as well," he laughed to himself, care- 
 fully securing each door from the outside with 
 ropes tied to the handles in such a manner that 
 it would be impossible, by the exercise of ordinary 
 force, to open them at all. Nevertheless, at each 
 door he listened attentively, and, hearing no 
 sound, he crept stealthily to the rear hall window 
 and stepped out upon the extension roof. 
 
 A rap upon the flags outside startled him; it 
 was only a roundsman on his rounds; the man on 
 the roof felt perfectly secure, for he was unseen 
 from the street below. 
 
 Without a sound, he crept warily across the 
 roof and paused just before he reached the 
 furthest window. He fumbled once more in his 
 waistcoat, and the mysterious little bell tinkled 
 again. 
 
 " I must hurry up ! " he told himself. " I'm 
 due now at the Club." 
 
 He laughed noiselessly, and then stepped to 
 the open window and raised the mosquito-bar that 
 retarded his entrance, and disappeared within.
 
 246 THE CATSPAW 
 
 Presently Dorothy heard or thought she 
 heard a noise in the hall without the noise of 
 a man creeping stealthily. In an instant she was 
 on her feet and over at the door listening. The 
 steps drew swiftly nearer and swelled out sud- 
 denly louder, and, unlocking the door, quickly she 
 threw it open and called out: 
 
 "Who's there?" 
 
 But there was no answer. And then she saw 
 what it was: a light breeze had sprung up, and 
 the curtain of an open window in the hall was 
 rising and falling with the wind. Smiling at her 
 fears, she shut the door, locked it, and once more 
 resumed her seat. 
 
 How long she sat there she did not know. It is 
 said that fishermen mesmerise themselves by 
 watching a cork bob up and down upon the sunlit 
 wave, and that the heavy hours pass almost like 
 minutes with them. And so it was with Dorothy 
 sitting in her room in the dead of the night, wide- 
 awake, and yet dreaming day-dreams, oblivious to 
 everything, even herself. Once more she started. 
 What was it that startled her again? She looked 
 hastily around and tried to collect her thoughts. 
 
 And then it was that she saw at the northern
 
 THE LEOPARD'S SPOTS 247 
 
 window a human hand, carefully, stealthily, noise- 
 lessly raising the screen; and, before she could 
 raise an alarm, a man leaped silently, subtly, into 
 the room a man in a long black coat with a 
 black mask a man who seemed part and parcel 
 of the night itself. An instant more, and there 
 shot a gleam of light across the blackness of the 
 room a gleam of light that issued from a lantern 
 in the hand of this silent figure. 
 
 Stupidly for she was too frightened to call 
 and too weak to run she watched the ray of light 
 play across the bed. Then once more there was 
 darkness, the black figure having moved silently 
 away from her and toward the dressing-table. He 
 had, evidently, thought to find a sleeper on the 
 bed, and now had concluded that the room was 
 empty, for he became less stealthy in his move- 
 ments. 
 
 " This room seems to be unoccupied," he mut- 
 tered presently to himself. "That's strange. I 
 thought ..." 
 
 Now he was moving here and there with a cer- 
 tainty and rapidity that was surprising, never slip- 
 ping or stumbling and even unfastening, with a 
 click, the mask which concealed his features.
 
 24 8 THE CATSPAW 
 
 And still the girl did not move, but sat speech- 
 less, motionless. 
 
 The man once more flashed his light, but this 
 time directly upon the dressing-table. It was evi- 
 dent that he was looking for valuables; and pres- 
 ently he stripped the top of it of everything that 
 lay in plain sight, among which were the jewels 
 that Miss Paget had removed that very night. 
 Now he opened each drawer, and, with his deft 
 fingers, examined the contents, each jewel, as he 
 appropriated it, sparkling in the strong light from 
 his lantern. Every jewel that the girl possessed 
 was in that dressing-table; the burglar made a 
 rich haul. 
 
 Dorothy continued to remain motionless, re- 
 straining with difficulty an inclination to cry out. 
 
 Suddenly the man turned to the chiffonier, and, 
 opening a drawer, his light fell upon three letters 
 lying loose within it the three letters written in 
 the handwriting of Kittredge St. John. Glancing 
 over the first two carelessly, he laughingly re- 
 marked to himself: 
 
 '* They were wise precautions." 
 
 He picked up the third; it fell from his hands 
 with a cry.
 
 Stepping quickly to the wall, she turned a button
 
 THE LEOPARD'S SPOTS 249 
 
 "... fool . . . idiot!" he muttered. 
 
 Hastily he picked it up, put it in an inside 
 pocket of his clothes, and then once more he re- 
 sumed his work. But, as he did so, the light 
 from his lantern shone full into the mirror that 
 stood above the dressing-table, and the reflection 
 shone full into his face. 
 
 "Henry!" gasped a faint voice in the 
 gloom. 
 
 Quickly the man turned in the direction of the 
 voice, flashed his light upon the girl, starting in 
 surprise as he now saw her for the first time. In- 
 stantly recovering himself, however, he said in 
 a well-modulated voice: 
 
 " Keep quiet, will you ! " 
 
 The girl did not speak for a moment, then cried 
 out again in an agonised voice: 
 
 "Henry! Henry!" 
 
 The man took a step towards her, and demanded 
 sternly, but in a low voice: 
 
 "What's the matter?" 
 
 The girl by a heroic effort now regained full 
 possession of her faculties; and, stepping quickly 
 to the wall, she turned a button, flooding the room 
 instantly with light.
 
 250 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " I called you," she replied, facing him. " I 
 called you Kittredge St. John ! " 
 
 The man gazed at the girl uncertainly; the pu- 
 pils in his eyes were dilating widely; he looked as 
 a man does who steps from darkness into light. 
 
 " My name is not Kittredge St. John," he re- 
 turned in a nonplussed sort of way; and the girl, 
 looking at his eyes, wondered what there was 
 about them that made them look so peculiar that 
 made them look as though he had just awakened 
 out of a sleep. 
 
 An ordinary observer would have said that he 
 was dazzled by the sudden light; but Dorothy, 
 agitated as she was, decided that the man before 
 her was asleep, fast asleep, was a somnambulist. 
 Yes, that was it; that explained everything. She 
 made a movement towards the door, but he was 
 too quick for her. In an instant he had read- 
 justed his mask to his face and leaped toward the 
 electric light and smashed it, leaving her to grope 
 in the dark. 
 
 He made no attempt to touch the girl though 
 he half-suspected what was in her mind, but 
 moved stealthily toward the window and proceeded 
 to make his exit.
 
 THE LEOPARD'S SPOTS 251 
 
 But no sooner had he placed his foot outside 
 than he just as quickly withdrew it. For there, 
 dimly outlined in the darkness, he saw the head 
 of a uniformed officer peeping carefully above the 
 roof. Once more in the room, and regardless of 
 the presence of the girl, the man hastily stepped 
 to the inner door, unlocked it, and attempted to 
 throw -it open ; but he was hoist by his own petard : 
 his rope outside was fastened to the knob, and 
 the door would not yield. He swore beneath his 
 breath, and, going to the eastern window, looked 
 out; on the lawn below was another officer stand- 
 ing motionless with something glinting in his 
 hand. 
 
 Uncertain as to how to proceed, he halted for 
 a moment to debate with himself; and, finally 
 stepping to the foremost of the eastern windows, 
 he put out his head and let forth a blood-curdling 
 scream a scream that might have been a woman's, 
 so shrill was it in its intensity. 
 
 Immediately the attention of the officer below 
 was attracted to that window. Whereupon the 
 burglar dashed out through the northern window 
 upon the extension roof, brushing aside the officer 
 who was prepared to make an entrance there, and
 
 252 THE CATSPAW 
 
 leaped and sprang to an arbour at the back and 
 jumped to the ground. 
 
 Simultaneously a shot rang out in the air and 
 a voice cried out: 
 
 "Halt!" 
 
 The burglar laughed a mocking laugh, and 
 sprang upon the low wall, cleared it, and disap- 
 peared. But, as he did so, the officer took aim 
 and fired, his shot being followed by the shriek 
 of a man in agony; but, though the burglar 
 shrieked with pain, he halted for an instant and, 
 turning, fired two shots from a revolver before he 
 sped on his way. 
 
 The officer kept on firing until, all of a sud- 
 den, he was startled by the faint scream of a 
 woman. 
 
 " Don't don't shoot that man ! " pleaded the 
 girl in the window. " Don't shoot him he's not 
 himself! He's not awake! He's a somnambu- 
 list! Don't shoot . . . !" The voice trailed 
 off into incoherency, and she fell, fainting, to the 
 floor. 
 
 Fortunately for the girl, however, the officer 
 was too much bent upon pursuit to hear much of 
 what she said. One of his fellow-officers was al-
 
 THE LEOPARD'S SPOTS 253 
 
 ready speeding after the culprit, while the other 
 one remained as custodian of the place. 
 
 Presently neighbours came to their relief; the 
 household was thoroughly aroused, only the but- 
 ler remaining for some time in a stupor. 
 
 Meanwhile, away down the street, the burglar 
 made good use of his heels. If he had been asleep, 
 he certainly woke up, for he flew like the wind, 
 dashing up one street and down the next, often 
 doubling on his tracks. Suddenly he dashed 
 around a corner; then everything was still. Up 
 to this time the officers had kept sight of him; 
 but now, when they in turn rushed around the 
 corner, he was lost to them, had completely dis- 
 appeared. They ransacked the neighbourhood 
 and searched all the houses, but without avail : the 
 marauder had escaped. 
 
 By the time they had finished their search, a 
 man, footsore and weary, was walking in security 
 some two miles away on the other side of the 
 town, his steps bent toward the Iroquois Club. 
 
 " Good Heavens, how that bullet hurts ! " he 
 exclaimed to himself, shaking blood from his 
 finger. 
 
 Now, it is well known that ofttimes in battle
 
 254 THE CATSPAW 
 
 men are shot through their limbs, or even through 
 the body, almost without pain. Sometimes they 
 do not even know that they have been hit; on the 
 other hand, a stray bullet may clip a piece of ear 
 or chop off a finger and cause excruciating pain. 
 Such was the case with this man : he had been hit, 
 but the bullet had merely clipped a small piece of 
 flesh from the end of his middle finger; and, while 
 the wound was not serious, it was agonising, and 
 had caused the involuntary shriek of anguish which 
 he had emitted when the shot had taken effect. 
 
 Thrusting his injured hand into his pocket, he 
 walked on in the direction of the Iroquois Club.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 A DINNER EXTRAORDINARY 
 
 " SHALL I serve dinner, sir? " 
 
 The place was the private dining-room of the 
 Iroquois Club. It was a little after twelve o'clock 
 on that same evening, and the question was put 
 to Varnum, as he stood in the midst of a little 
 group of men in evening dress, by a man who 
 looked anything but pleased with his garb of 
 prison stripes. At the moment of being addressed 
 by this strangely-clad servant, Varnum was con- 
 versing earnestly with his friends, Olyphant and 
 Major Holbrook. Before answering, he threw a 
 comprehensive glance around the room ; noted that 
 four other convict-garbed servants were standing 
 stiffly at attention against the walls; saw that the 
 table was tastefully arranged; then he turned to 
 the pseudo-convict at his elbow. 
 
 " No, Gustave," he protested, " of course we 
 can't go on. Our guest of honour has not arrived." 
 
 Varnum drew out his watch, furrowed up his 
 
 brow, and nervously blinked his eyes. 
 
 255
 
 256 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " I say, Major," he called out, " where can St. 
 John be?" 
 
 " Don't ask me," returned Holbrook. " I 
 haven't seen him for a week." 
 
 "How about you?" queried Varnum of Oly- 
 phant. 
 
 Olyphant shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 " He was all right when I saw him twenty- four 
 hours ago." 
 
 Varnum now went over to another guest and 
 drew him into a corner. 
 
 " Are you sure, old man, that Kitt St. John was 
 notified of this affair? " 
 
 " Sure," returned the other laconically. " The 
 man who did it is a man who'd find him dead or 
 alive." 
 
 Archie sighed with vexation. 
 
 " We're an hour late already ! " he exclaimed. 
 " The point of the whole thing will be lost if St. 
 John don't get here soon." 
 
 Archie was quite right: the point of the whole 
 thing, if there were any point to it at all, cen- 
 tred upon St. John. Varnum's midnight dinner 
 for Archie never gave a dinner until after mid- 
 night was no ordinary dinner. The invitations
 
 A DINNER EXTRAORDINARY 257 
 
 had been issued in the shape of warrants served by 
 deputy-sheriffs; the waiters from Gustave down, 
 as has been seen, appeared in durance vile; the 
 menus were highly decorated affairs; the windows 
 of the private dining-room were heavily barred; 
 in fact, everything was suggestive of but one phase 
 of life crime. 
 
 "Can you beat it?" sung out Archie, as he 
 picked up a menu and gave it to the Major to 
 read. 
 
 " I should say not," replied the Major, draw- 
 ing down the corners of his mouth in a grim smile 
 as he gazed upon the cover of the menu. It rep- 
 resented Kittredge St. John in evening dress in 
 the act of breaking into Bonwit's bank; while, on 
 the back, there was a striking likeness of the same 
 gentleman ruefully contemplating the outlines of 
 a nearby penitentiary, in the garb affected by the 
 Club waiters. 
 
 As for the bill of fare, it was arranged in such 
 a manner that it featured each alleged feat of 
 St. John's; in other words, there was a crime for 
 every course. 
 
 As Varnum and the Major gloated over this 
 exquisite and expensive bit of tomfoolery, a dozen
 
 2 5 8 THE CATSPAW 
 
 men, looking somewhat uncomfortable, filed into 
 the room. 
 
 " By George ! " cried Archie; " I came near for- 
 getting all about them! They're almost as im- 
 portant as St. John himself." 
 
 Puzzled, the Major looked them over. Stand- 
 ing before him were twelve gentlemen, each one in 
 a different walk of life, and each one following 
 out his own idea of evening dress. 
 
 "Who on earth are these?" queried the 
 Major, catching Archie by the sleeve. 
 
 Varnum burst into a fit of almost uncontrollable 
 laughter. 
 
 " Why," he spluttered, " don't you recognise 
 them? They're the jury at St. John's trial. 
 They're all here the Judge, the Prosecutor, the 
 Sheriff, and now, here's the jury. Corking idea, 
 isn't it? And all mine, too." 
 
 Another half-hour went by and still the guest- 
 of-honour came not. Time and again Gus- 
 tave, the waiter, his leg hampered with rubber 
 ball and chain, approached Varnum with the 
 statement that the unusual delay was playing 
 havoc with the good things long waiting to be 
 served.
 
 A DINNER EXTRAORDINARY 259 
 
 "It can't be helped," the waiter was told. 
 " We've simply got to wait if we all night, if 
 necessary." 
 
 And Gustave, with a deferential " As you say, 
 sir," limped back to his accustomed place. 
 
 All this time the jurymen, with hunger writ- 
 ten on their faces, were imbibing preliminary cock- 
 tails; the other guests grew glum; Archie was be- 
 side himself in despair. And now going to the 
 'phone with the remark that he would call up every 
 place in town until he found St. John, he placed the 
 receiver to his ear and asked Central to give him 
 346 Chatham. But that is as far as he got; for, 
 at that moment, from every throat in the room, 
 and especially from each well-moistened epiglottis 
 of the twelve jurymen, there rose a rapturous 
 shout that well-nigh rent the ceiling. 
 
 " St. John, St. John ! " came in chorus. 
 
 At first glance he appeared as debonair as 
 usual, but, after a while, it was plain to all that 
 he was unusually distraught. He was pale, had 
 the appearance of a man who had been engaged 
 in some mental struggle; dark circles were under 
 his eyes; the veins stood out upon his forehead, 
 and his lips were pressed together tightly. So
 
 2 6o THE CATSPAW 
 
 that, as he bowed to all his friends in turn, there 
 was not one that did not experience a sudden shock. 
 It was plainly evident that St. John was not alto- 
 gether himself. 
 
 "Why, what's the matter, old man?" asked 
 Archie Varnum with considerable concern. ' You 
 don't look at all fit." 
 
 St. John moved slowly with his host to the seat 
 of honour, and, sinking into it, drew his hand 
 wearily across his forehead. 
 
 " I'm all right," he said, a trifle breathlessly. 
 " But I'm tired tired of everything to-night, of 
 everything but you, Archie." 
 
 But as the dinner progressed for Gustave 
 made every effort to keep his viands from falling 
 into the innocuous desuetude with which the delay 
 had threatened them the burden that rested upon 
 St. John's shoulders seemed to roll away. So 
 much so that presently he lifted his glass high 
 in the air and said: 
 
 "To twelve good men and true, gentlemen; 
 may you never be less happy than you are to- 
 night." 
 
 The maudlin jurymen at the other end of the 
 table were delighted. St. John had always been
 
 A DINNER EXTRAORDINARY 261 
 
 popular with men outside as well as inside the 
 Club. However, it could hardly be said that he 
 had ever made a bid for this popularity; on the 
 contrary, there had always been a certain reserve 
 about him ; and, lately, even the most conservative 
 had to acknowledge that this habit was growing 
 upon him; that he was holding himself more and 
 more aloof from his best friends. But to-night, 
 when later he rose to reply to the first toast of 
 the evening, there was something about him 
 something that could be likened to a vital resolve, 
 that lifted him above, even, the extraordinary in- 
 dividual that he was. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he began, while the eye of every 
 man, even to the tipsiest of the twelve jurymen, 
 was upon him, " there is something that I have 
 to say to you that the sooner said, the better." He 
 paused ; the room became silent as death. " My 
 coming among you evidently seems to have been 
 a mistake," he went on. " I thought I knew what 
 I was about; it seems I did not. In the last six 
 weeks events have happened in this town with be- 
 wildering rapidity events that a few officers of 
 the law believe that I am responsible for. I am 
 here to-night ..." Again he stopped and
 
 262 THE CATSPAW 
 
 closed his eyes, his whole frame quivering. In- 
 deed, to little Archie Varnum, it seemed as though 
 St. John were fighting a tremendous fight against 
 some unknown influence. 
 
 " I say to you to-night," he resumed, " that I 
 am responsible, in a measure, for the happenings 
 of those events, but not in a way that is generally 
 supposed. Two months ago ..." He broke 
 off abruptly and then declared with an air of great 
 hopelessness: " Oh, I can't tell you to-night. You 
 wouldn't understand. . . . But this much I will 
 say you've all heard used, time and time again, 
 that disagreeable term a catspaw, and you all 
 know what the term signifies. Not a pleasant thing 
 to contemplate, is it?" He looked around the 
 room comprehensively. " But I ..." 
 
 The ring of the telephone bell interrupted him. 
 Major Holbrook happened to be the nearest to 
 the instrument. Jumping to his feet, he seized the 
 receiver in his hand. In another instant, he was 
 holding up his other hand for silence. 
 
 " One moment, St. John ! " he cried. " This 
 has got something to do with you ! " 
 
 Now he spoke into the 'phone. 
 
 " Hello, Chief ! " He nodded towards the as-
 
 A DINNER EXTRAORDINARY 263 
 
 sembled company and added : " It's headquarters, 
 Chief of Police." 
 
 Then through the 'phone : 
 
 " Yes, I hear you you are talking to Major 
 Holbrook. What is it?" 
 
 At the other end of the wire the Chief drew a 
 long breath. 
 
 " The Paget house has been robbed, and they 
 say by Kittredge St. John." 
 
 " Why, that's the girl he's engaged to," said 
 Holbrook. 
 
 " Yes, I know it," replied the Chief. " Never- 
 theless, he robbed it to-night. He was seen by 
 Miss Paget and two of my men." 
 
 Major Holb rook's face broke into a smile. 
 
 "Well, you didn't make a capture; did you, 
 Chief?" And from his position at the telephone 
 he winked at St. John. 
 
 "No," replied the Chief, "not exactly; but 
 we'll get him if Miss Paget will tell the truth." 
 
 The Major rang off, and, turning now to the 
 assembled company, he roared out: 
 
 41 Archie, your dinner is a joke, but here's an- 
 other that's got it skinned to death. Here's St. 
 John, who has been here all evening .. ... ." He
 
 264 THE CATSPAW 
 
 stopped as though searching his memory to con- 
 firm the truth of his statement; a juryman nudged 
 his neighbour and whispered: 
 
 " But he hasn't been here all the evening." 
 
 " He was found," went on Major Holbrook, 
 " by the police ransacking the house of Miss 
 Paget, uptown. What do you think of that ? And, 
 what's more, they say they've cornered him at 
 last!" 
 
 At his tone of irony, the diners broke into an 
 uproarious guffaw; but suddenly they stopped, for 
 St. John, raising his hand high in the air, brought 
 it down crashing among the glasses. 
 
 " It's the last straw ! " he cried out, glaring 
 wildly about him. " I'm through with talking 
 now I'm going to act." 
 
 He left his place rapidly and strode down the 
 long table and into the dressing-room; Archie 
 followed him, only to find the door of the dress- 
 ing-room closed. Pushing it open, he uttered an 
 exclamation of alarm: there in the middle of the 
 room stood Kittredge St. John deliberately con- 
 templating a bulldog revolver which he held 
 within his hand. In a moment Archie was at his 
 side, crying out:
 
 A DINNER EXTRAORDINARY 265 
 
 " Kitt, for Heaven's sake, what are you going 
 to do?" 
 
 St. John straightened up and opened his eyes 
 like one coming out of a dream. For a long time 
 he stared at Varnum ; at last, clutching him by the 
 hand, he said: 
 
 "Thanks, old man, you came just in the nick 
 of time. ..." And with that, apparently obey- 
 ing a sudden impulse, he handed the revolver to 
 Varnum, adding: "Take this from me, Archie; 
 will you? You'd better keep it for me." But as 
 Archie was about to take it, St. John, obeying an- 
 other impulse, quickly withdrew it from Archie's 
 grasp. " No," he exclaimed, thrusting the gun 
 into the pocket of his dinner-coat, " I'm a man 
 after all, Varnum ! There's some way out of this 
 other than ... It may take days, but there's 
 something that I've got to do, Archie, some- 
 thing ..." 
 
 "What are you going to do?" interrupted 
 Archie quickly. 
 
 " I'm going to force the issue," returned the 
 other. " To force the issue with myself and some 
 one else. I've got to leave you now, Archie 
 good-night."
 
 266 THE CATSPAW 
 
 Outside the Club, and almost to a minute of the 
 time that St. John said these words, a policeman, 
 pacing slowly upon his beat, passed by the 
 place where Burke had determined to take his 
 station, whence he might wait and watch for 
 the quarry that he was intent upon running to 
 earth. 
 
 " There's been a burglary uptown," the police- 
 man said. " I just came out with the two-o'clock 
 squad and heard 'em talk about it." 
 
 " You don't mean to say ... ." 
 
 " Yes. Up in the swell quarter, a family of 
 the name of Paget. . . . Thief got away with 
 a lot of jewelry and . . ." 
 
 The special caught the other by the arm and 
 asked excitedly: 
 
 "Paget, did you say?" 
 
 "That's the name; at least, so I was told." 
 
 " But I was there myself to-night I I can't 
 believe . . . ! " And, with these words, Burke 
 proceeded to move on, his eye directed toward 
 the entrance of the Iroquois Club. At that mo- 
 ment, however, he saw a man coming out a man 
 who stood for an instant under the bright light 
 above the door, and then, descending the steps to
 
 A DINNER EXTRAORDINARY 267 
 
 the street, turned to his right and walked along, 
 one hand, carelessly perhaps, concealed in the 
 pocket of his coat. 
 
 The man was Kittredge St. John. 
 
 The following morning there was a secret 
 session at Police Headquarters, in which the cap- 
 tains of the various precincts, Burke and his asso- 
 ciates, and the two officers who had been present 
 at the time of the theft were in attendance. The 
 police department had been roasted right and left 
 by the press and the people, and it was even 
 hinted that certain of the officers were in league 
 with the gang of burglars. It is due to the hon- 
 esty of the force to say that they were innocent 
 of the slightest information relative to the affair. 
 They had tried their best to solve the mystery; 
 they had tried their best to prevent the depreda- 
 tions, but without success. Burke was their best 
 man, and to him was entrusted the task of run- 
 ning down the thief. He was confident, or had 
 been, that St. John was the guilty party; he had 
 run him down as best he could. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said the chief, " the honour and 
 integrity of this force have been attacked, and we
 
 268 THE CATSPAW 
 
 are powerless to defend ourselves until we pro- 
 duce one or more of the members of this gang 
 and yield them up to punishment. Last night's 
 affair is the last straw! I'm going to find out 
 about this thing if it takes a leg, and I'm going 
 to begin right now. I want Andrews and Cassidy 
 to step up here and tell their story." 
 
 Andrews and Cassidy in turn rose and told the 
 same tale. 
 
 Andrews was the officer on the beat; Cassidy, 
 a roundsman. Their suspicions had been aroused 
 the night before by the merest chance the sudden 
 lighting of Miss Paget's room. For some min- 
 utes they had directed their attention to the place ; 
 then their suspicions were confirmed when they 
 saw the man replace his mask, leap toward the 
 light bulb on the wall, and smash it. One of the 
 men immediately moved to the rear of the house, 
 mounted to the extension roof, and was about to 
 enter the window as the burglar, a tall, well-built 
 man, dashed past him and leaped to the ground. 
 They fired and evidently hit their man, because 
 along the line of chase they discovered drops of 
 blood. In their opinion they had wounded him 
 painfully, and perhaps very seriously. And then
 
 A DINNER EXTRAORDINARY 269 
 
 he had disappeared. They had done their best 
 and no man could do more. 
 
 " Now, look here," asked the Chief, " did this 
 man look like St. John?" 
 
 '"Well, sir," said Andrews, "as I said, we 
 didn't see his face. But, to tell the truth, St. John 
 was the man we were looking for we had an 
 eye out for him and this man seemed to us to 
 be about his build. We thought, sir, it was St. 
 John." 
 
 The chief now called Burke. 
 
 "Where were you all this time, Burke?" he 
 questioned. 
 
 " Followin' St. John." 
 
 "And you found out? " 
 
 " Nothin' just nothin'. Either we're away off, 
 or else St. John's dead on to us and is keepin' 
 straight." 
 
 The Chief turned a pair of suspicious eyes upon 
 the detective. 
 
 "What the mischief do you mean. Burke?" 
 he demanded. " Don't you know that St. John 
 robbed the Paget house last night? " 
 
 Burke started up as though shot. 
 
 " What ! D'ye mean to tell me that he robbed
 
 270 THE CATSPAW 
 
 the Paget house?" cried Burke. "I can take 
 an ath that he never ..." 
 
 "How do you know that he didn't?" asked 
 the Chief. 
 
 " Well," Burke told him with a smile, " I ought 
 to know. I saw him go into the Iroquois Club 
 last night, saw him take his place in the dining- 
 room, saw him sit there all night till half-past two 
 in the morning, saw him go home, an' I've just 
 come from the Elberon, where he lives." 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me that you saw St. 
 John himself in the Iroquois Club all that time? " 
 
 "To be exact," explained Burke, " I didn't see 
 his face after he went in, but I saw it from his eye- 
 brows up; and, besides, the doorkeeper told me 
 half-a-dozen times that St. John was there. He 
 was there, all right," he wound up glibly. 
 
 The Chief glanced uncertainly at the men be- 
 fore him. Presently he touched a button; an offi- 
 cial appeared. 
 
 ' You get a cab," commanded the Chief, " and 
 go up to Miss Paget's house and bring her here. 
 I'm going to have her down; she's the only one 
 who can solve the mystery." 
 
 Half an hour later, Miss Paget was announced ;
 
 A DINNER EXTRAORDINARY 271 
 
 she was subjected to no stage of delay, but was 
 immediately shown into the Chief's private rm, 
 where, accompanied by Burke, he saw her. 
 
 In a few words, the Chief explained to her why 
 he had sent for her and the importance of her 
 testimony; she replied that she understood, and 
 would render any assistance in her power. 
 
 "Did did you get the man?" she asked, a 
 bit anxiously it seemed. 
 
 " No," replied the Chief. 
 ' Yes," answered Burke. 
 
 Burke's was the better answer of the two. He 
 was taking no chances even with Miss Paget, and 
 was not so sure that she was not trying to shield 
 the burglar. Burke, seeing the necessity of recon- 
 ciling the two replies, responded glibly: 
 
 " We've got a man, but not the man although 
 some of us think he is the man. He's nothing but 
 a tramp," continued Burke, " who had been in- 
 jured in a row." 
 
 Miss Paget breathed a sigh of relief; perhaps, 
 though, it was due to exhaustion. 
 
 " Now, Miss Paget," said the Chief, " won't 
 you tell us all you know?" 
 
 And Dorothy told him all there was to tell,
 
 272 THE CATSPAW 
 
 from the time the burglar entered her window 
 to the time she saw him disappear in the gloom 
 with Cassidy and Andrews at his heels; but she 
 said nothing about his personal appearance. Burke 
 took quick note of that. 
 
 "Just describe the man; will you, please?" he 
 requested. 
 
 She described him said that he was tall, well- 
 built, wore a black coat and a black hat, and in 
 appearance was gentlemanly. 
 
 "You saw his face?" inquired Burke care- 
 lessly. 
 
 Burke wasn't sure that she had seen his face, 
 but he was trying the experiment; she hesitated 
 imperceptibly, and then answered: 
 
 " I did. He wore a mask at first; later he re- 
 moved it." 
 
 ' Wasn't the man you saw in your room last 
 night Kittredge St. John?" 
 
 " No," was her brief answer, delivered in a 
 tone that carried conviction.
 
 CHAPIER XVII 
 
 ROXANE TURNS INFORMER 
 
 THERE was a low, timid knock upon the door; 
 Roxane, somewhat startled, turned quickly toward 
 it and demanded sharply: 
 
 "Who's there?" 
 
 14 It's I, madam," came from Kato, one of her 
 Japanese servants; " I have a letter for you." 
 
 Roxane looked hastily about the room and 
 started for the door; then, thinking better of her 
 action, remained where she was, calling out im- 
 patiently : 
 
 " Put it underneath the door and don't dis- 
 turb me any more, please! " 
 
 ' Very well, madam," replied the servant, im- 
 mediately thrusting between the door-sill and the 
 bottom of the door a white square envelope; and 
 Roxane, recognising at a glance that it was from 
 St. John, seized it with avidity and tore it open. 
 
 Roxie [she read], one more big master-stroke and then 
 our get-away. You leave town on the I7th and wait for me 
 at the trysting-place on the 2ist. Don't fail! Everything 
 
 273
 
 274 THE CATSPAW 
 
 is arranged. Bring with you everything we are through with 
 
 the town of M . 
 
 ** e/ 
 
 KlTT. 
 
 For an instant the heart of Roxane leaped 
 within her; but the next instant, as was her wont, 
 she began to analyse and suspect his motives, tear- 
 ing mentally, bit by bit, this missive to pieces. 
 
 " I see it all," she said to herself, and all the 
 agony of the past few weeks swept over her once 
 more, sharpening her wits, clearing her vision. 
 " Four days between the iyth and the 2ist just 
 time enough to get out and leave the coast clear 
 to you. Ah, Kitt, you were stupid to make every- 
 thing so clear to me ! I see through your master- 
 stroke only too well. Our get-away! " She 
 laughed. " Your get-away, you mean. No, no," 
 she mentally commented, " there shall be no get- 
 away for you you've been getting away too much. 
 Dorothy Paget, I'd like to see her. ., . ,. No, 
 Kitt, you've had your last chance! " 
 
 She raged a moment inwardly, her eyes blazing, 
 her cheeks aflame. Presently she went on: 
 
 " I am to bring everything. I wonder if 
 he . . ." She broke off abruptly, her startled
 
 ROXANE TURNS INFORMER 275 
 
 glance seeking an etching an innocent-looking 
 pastoral on the wall. " I shouldn't be surprised 
 to find that he had robbed me," she concluded, 
 darting to the etching; and, swinging it back upon 
 a pair of hinges, revealed a small safe in the wall. 
 Hastily she turned the combination and swung 
 open the small steel door and looked within. They 
 were all there; package upon package of yellow- 
 back bills; boxes upon boxes of glittering jewels, 
 and in the midst of all shaming all with its bril- 
 liance lay the matched pearl necklace the pride 
 of the Tony Shackletons. 
 
 " I'm to bring all these," she said to herself 
 as she shut the door and restored the etching to 
 its place. " Would he lose all this does he mean, 
 after all, to come to me on the 2ist?" 
 
 Pondering, the countenance of Dorothy Paget 
 thrust itself into her vision. She stamped her 
 foot impatiently. 
 
 "No, he doesn't want these!" she exclaimed 
 hotly. " He doesn't want me! He wants her 
 the richest girl in town ! " She sneered. ' She 
 has necklaces, money, everything! I see it all 
 now ! And this is to be my pay my pay for all 
 that has passed between us ! " She paused a mo-
 
 276 THE CATSPAW 
 
 ment, and, with difficulty, controlled the emotion 
 that she felt. " Kitt," she said, " the three years 
 that I spent away were heaven compared with 
 these last few months." 
 
 Her mood changed on the instant, and, tearing 
 St. John's letter into bits, she stamped upon the 
 pieces as they filtered to the floor; then she became 
 the subtle, crafty, self-possessed woman that she 
 was meant to be. 
 
 She sat down at her little desk and answered his 
 letter with a request for one brief interview be- 
 fore she left, naming the time and place with un- 
 usual particularity. 
 
 " I think, Mr. St. John," she assured herself 
 as she sealed the note, " that there will be no get- 
 away for you." 
 
 In the corner of the room there hung a little 
 cabinet in which Roxane kept her brushes, her col- 
 ours, and her oils. She now stepped to this cab- 
 inet, and from the top shelf took down two small 
 phials and a test-tube. One phial contained, in 
 liquid, a long piece of reddish-brown substance, 
 resembling, more than anything, a section of the 
 small root of a tree; the other phial contained a 
 colourless liquid. And, placing these two phials
 
 ROXANE TURNS INFORMER 277 
 
 upon the desk before her and the test-tube by 
 their side, she seized an indelible pencil and a 
 sheet of soiled ruled writing-paper of the general 
 character sold to school-children, and upon it wrote 
 a message in strange, stilted hand-writing. 
 
 " No one but Kitt would ever know that," she 
 murmured to herself, placing it into an envelope, 
 " and he must never know. ... He shall never 
 know. ..." 
 
 Once more she turned her attention to the 
 phials. With a small pair of nippers she drew 
 forth the piece of tree root from its bottle, placed 
 it on a blotter, and cut from it a section of the 
 size of a small lozenge, returning the remainder of 
 the root swiftly to its liquid, and deposited the 
 lozenge in the bottom of her test-tube; then, seiz- 
 ing the other phial, she poured the test-tube one- 
 quarter full of the colourless liquid. This liquid 
 gave out a peculiarly pungent odour that made her 
 gasp, but she covered the test-tube with her thumb 
 nervously and shook it in the air until the lozenge 
 had completely disappeared the solid having be- 
 come dissolved almost immediately in the pungent 
 liquid. 
 
 " So far so good," murmured Roxane to her-
 
 278 THE CATSPAW 
 
 self. And, taking the note that she had so care- 
 fully indited, she proceeded to her little artist's 
 sink in the corner of the room, laid the note upon 
 a plate, and poured the mixture over it until it 
 was completely saturated; the indelible pencil- 
 writing leaped immediately into a vivid blue ; then, 
 seizing the note gingerly by the corner, allowed it 
 to drain for an instant into the sink before insert- 
 ing it into the envelope that she had prepared, and 
 sealed it. 
 
 " Kitt's note," she said to herself, " I can mail; 
 but this other must, somehow, be delivered within 
 an hour." 
 
 It was almost midnight when a little street 
 gamin, with a dirty face, darted into police head- 
 quarters and shoved a dirty letter under the nose 
 of the desk-sergeant who sat behind the rail. 
 
 " Fer youse ! " exclaimed the urchin, and, turn- 
 ing, darted out with the same rapidity that he had 
 entered. 
 
 The desk-sergeant took the note and started 
 to open it, but suddenly stopped. Some pungent 
 odour had assailed his nostrils. He beckoned to 
 a door-man and said:
 
 ROXANE TURNS INFORMER 279 
 
 ' Tell Burke to come here." And Burke en- 
 tering, the desk-sergeant went on: "Your name 
 is written on the corner of this envelope, so I 
 guess it's up to you ..." 
 
 Burke took the envelope, tore it open, and drew 
 forth the note within. 
 
 "Jerusalem! It's a wet one, all right!" 
 
 " So it seemed to me. What's it all about? " 
 
 Burke forgot its dampness in the perusal 
 of its contents. His eyes bulged from their 
 sockets. 
 
 " Sergeant, it's from the same party that gave 
 us the pointer about the Shackleton affair!" he 
 exclaimed; " and he's putting us wise to another 
 deal!" 
 
 "What do you make of it, anyway?" inquired 
 the sergeant dubiously. 
 
 " It's my opinion that it's somebody that's 
 mighty close to St. John. ..." 
 
 " But what does it say? " pressed the other. 
 
 " Read for yourself." 
 
 Whereupon the sergeant read as follows : 
 
 I told you the truth about the Shackleton affair, did I not? 
 If you had not been butter-fingers, you would have captured 
 the man in the act. However, I'm giving you another chance
 
 280 THE CATSPAW 
 
 to get your man make good. I'm on the inside and know 
 whereof I speak. St. John's next move is to rob Mrs. 
 Bellairs you know, the party that bought the Olyphant 
 homestead. She has a safe in the top of her house where 
 she keeps her money, jewelry, and other valuables. No mat- 
 ter how he found that out, he knows it, and I know it, too, 
 from him. On the morning of the loth, at two o'clock, he 
 intends to rob that safe. My advice to you is to look sharp 
 if you would capture your man. 
 
 The sergeant turned the mysterious unaddressed 
 and unsigned letter several times over in his hands. 
 In the end, he said : 
 
 " I wish we knew who wrote this." He started 
 to lay the letter down, and then quickly drew it 
 towards him, with : " What's that line on the bot- 
 tom there?" 
 
 "What is it?" queried Burke. 
 
 The desk-sergeant pointed to a line which read : 
 "Don't put this letter in the waste-basket; just 
 drop it on the floor." 
 
 " It's a wonder," commented the desk-sergeant, 
 " that we weren't told to burn it. What do you 
 suppose that means? " 
 
 They had little time to conjecture, for, at that 
 instant, Burke sprang back in amazement, ex- 
 claiming : ;
 
 ROXANE TURNS INFORMER 281 
 
 " Jumping Jerusalem! What the dickens is 
 that?" 
 
 And well might he have exclaimed. The soiled 
 letter had suddenly adopted a peculiar course of 
 conduct. While the desk-sergeant still held it in 
 his hand, it had burst at all points at once into a 
 brilliant flame a flame that was like a puff, a 
 flash of light. There was no beginning to it, no 
 accounting for it. It was a case, apparently, of 
 spontaneous combustion. The letter was there and 
 was not there; its blackened ashes sifted to the 
 floor. 
 
 The desk-sergeant was speechless. 
 
 " Well, what do you make of it? " he queried. 
 " And that," turning to the envelope, for the en- 
 velope also had begun, though more slowly and 
 less merrily, to surrender itself to flame. " What 
 do you make of it? " he repeated, as he swept the 
 envelope to the floor and stamped out the con- 
 flagration with his foot. " No wonder," he con- 
 tinued, " that the writer didn't want us to put it 
 in the waste-basket. We'd have had headquarters 
 in a blaze." 
 
 Burke sniffed the air. 
 
 " That's a clever piece of work, sergeant. The
 
 282 THE CATSPAW 
 
 whole thing in a nutshell is, nobody else was to 
 know what was told us. Do you know what or 
 how the thing was done? " 
 
 The desk-sergeant, mystified, shook his head; 
 Burke sniffed in disgust at the other's ignorance. 
 
 " Why, man, it's as easy as rolling off a log! " 
 he exclaimed. " Don't you smell that funny 
 smell?" 
 
 " I should say I did," was the answer. " It 
 almost choked me. What is it, anyway?" 
 " Ether," returned Burke. 
 " Well, ether won't set anything on fire." 
 " Of course it won't; but phosphorus will." 
 " What has phosphorus got to do with this? " 
 " It's got a good deal to do with this," declared 
 Burke. " There's two things that dissolves phos- 
 phorus: one is bisulphide of carbon, which is the 
 rottenest thing to smell that you ever smelt; an- 
 other is ether, which is nicer, but takes your breath 
 away. And that is what was used in this instance. 
 A piece of phosphorus was dissolved in ether 
 and the mixture poured on this letter. As long as 
 it stayed moist there was nothing doing; but you 
 you know as well as I do that as soon as phosphorus 
 is exposed to the air it will burst into flame in a
 
 ROXANE TURNS INFORMER 283 
 
 minute; and as soon as this solution dried out, 
 why, the phosphorus got in its work and burnt 
 the darn thing up." 
 
 The sergeant stared at him in amazement. 
 " Sergeant," said Burke, with a wink and at the 
 same time poking him in the ribs, " if ever you 
 want to write love letters that you don't mean, 
 this is a good way to write them." 
 The sergeant smiled a puzzled smile. 
 " But how do you come to know about things 
 like this?" he asked. 
 
 Burke pondered for an instant. 
 " Oh, the thing has been done time and time 
 again. But that ain't the point. The point is 
 that we must not forget what was in that letter. 
 You remember what it said, don't you? " 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Repeat it to me." 
 
 " The morning of the loth at two o'clock at 
 Mrs. Bellairs'," repeated the sergeant. 
 
 " Exactly," commented Burke; and repeated as 
 he jotted down in his note-book: "The morning 
 of the loth at two o'clock at Mrs. Bellairs'. And 
 this time," he concluded, " we've got to be on the 
 inside and outside, the top-side and bottom-side of
 
 284 THE CATSPAW 
 
 the house. We've got to land our man for 
 fair." 
 
 Hence it was that the morning of the loth found 
 Burke and his assistants lying in ambush in and 
 about the house of Mrs. Bellairs, having obtained 
 that lady's permission as well as her promise 
 to co-operate with them in running down the 
 thief. 
 
 Kittredge St. John obeyed Roxane's command 
 with unusual eagerness. But as he stood under 
 the eaves of " The Ivies," swallowed up by the 
 shadow of the house itself, for the moment a 
 vague uneasiness crept over him: Roxane had al- 
 ways kept a light somewhere in the cupola a 
 light that beckoned to him from a distance; and 
 there was none there now. Presently, casting 
 aside the annoyance that he felt and with a trick 
 known only to himself, he proceeded to clamber 
 swiftly up a corner of the house, finding foot-hold 
 where apparently there was none, and a moment 
 more and he had reached the roof. He did not 
 look behind him; if he had he would have seen 
 upon the dotted lawn shadows quite as fantastic 
 as his own had been; for, at that instant, fully 
 half-a-dozen figures darted from shrub to shrub,
 
 ROXANE TURNS INFORMER 285 
 
 tree to tree, and silently ranged themselves about 
 the house. 
 
 But as for St. John, he was too preoccupied 
 with his own thoughts thoughts of Roxane, and 
 their future. If, however, he had ever given any 
 thought to Dorothy Paget, he forced himself not 
 to think of her now now as he lightly clambered 
 up the roof, lightly placed his hand upon the case- 
 ment, and lightly thrust open the window. All 
 was dark within, and for a moment he remained 
 astride the window-sill. 
 
 " Roxane," he whispered. 
 
 There was no response, and, without faltering, 
 he dropped to the floor beneath and closed the 
 window; then, stepping to the wall, he turned a 
 switch, and the room became instantly flooded 
 with light. 
 
 " I wonder where . r . . " he said, looking 
 about him hastily, and was about to leave the room 
 when it suddenly occurred to him that he had two 
 purposes in being there instead of one: he had 
 something on his person which it was necessary to 
 conceal some treasure that he must hide. 
 
 A moment more and he had drawn forth from 
 his pocket a dozen sparkling gems; and from an-
 
 286 THE CATSPAW 
 
 other pocket a goodly roll of bills. Then he 
 stepped to the rural etching on the wall and threw 
 it back, even as she had done, swiftly turned the 
 combination of the safe, and threw open the steel 
 door. 
 
 "What what has she done with them?" he 
 gasped in astonishment. "Where are the . . 
 
 He staggered and almost fell back, for where 
 once had reposed the matched pearl necklace of 
 the Tony Shackletons, where countless gems had 
 glittered, where bills had piled themselves up in 
 their bulk, there was now nothing save emptiness ; 
 no, not altogether emptiness, for, in the far corner 
 of the safe, there was a small packet of bank- 
 notes containing, perhaps, one thousand dollars. 
 That was all that was left. 
 
 " Can she already have gone to Manhattan? " 
 asked St. John of himself. " What does it 
 mean? " 
 
 He searched every nook and cranny of the safe 
 with his eyes and with his nimble fingers, and then 
 he grasped the small packet of bills that still re- 
 mained therein. 
 
 " Hands up, St. John ! " called a voice. 
 
 St. John turned, withdrawing his hand and
 
 ROXANE TURNS INFORMER 287 
 
 the packet of bills from the little safe, and looked 
 into the muzzles of half-a-dozen pistols, looked 
 into the unflinching eyes of Burke, plain-clothes 
 man about town. 
 
 " Hands up ! " called out Burke again, " and 
 keep that money in your hand ! " 
 
 St. John obeyed, and, for a moment that seemed 
 minutes, he and the detective glared into each 
 other's eyes, one with triumph, the other with 
 defiance. 
 
 "I've got you, Mr. St. John!" said Burke at 
 
 length. 
 
 A grim smile played about the lips of St. John, 
 
 and he quietly answered: 
 
 " Don't be too sure ..." 
 
 " Open that door and quietly call the missus," 
 commanded Burke, nodding to one of his men; and, 
 the next instant, Roxane, pale, wide-eyed, but still 
 self-possessed, entered the room. 
 
 41 We caught the burglar red-handed, Mrs. E 
 lairs," said Burke, never once removing his gun 
 from its threatening position, " and here he is." 
 
 Roxane started back with well-feigned surprise. 
 
 " Why, Mr. St. John ! It can't be possible . 
 
 " Can't be possible! " repeated Burke. 'You
 
 288 THE CATSPAW 
 
 see that packet of bills in his right hand there? 
 Well, weren't they in your safe ? " 
 
 "Yes," she faltered; "over a thousand dol- 
 lars. What does it mean?" 
 
 " It means, Mrs. Bellairs," continued Burke, 
 " that we've got him for grand larceny, that we've 
 got him for burglary, this time, got him good and 
 fast. I simply wanted you to see, wanted some 
 one to see that Burke was right." 
 
 " I see," she gasped; " but I can hardly believe 
 it. It seems like a dream, a nightmare. Can it 
 be possible, Mr. St. John, that you have been 
 committing all these crimes? " 
 
 St. John merely smiled. 
 
 "Do you expect me to commit myself?" he 
 asked. 
 
 Burke strode upon him threateningly and placed 
 the bulldog revolver against St. John's breast. 
 
 " I guess you will commit yourself, Mr. St. 
 John," said Burke, " and you'll commit yourself 
 right now." He turned to Mrs. Bellairs and 
 added: " If you don't mind, I and my men would 
 like to be left alone. We're going to get a con- 
 fession from Mr. St. John, and we're going to get 
 it now."
 
 ROXANE TURNS INFORMER 289 
 
 Roxane swept toward the door, where she stood 
 for an instant, her glance travelling from the 
 ^rnpty safe to the eyes of St. John. 
 
 " I think," she said icily, " that it's about time 
 Mr. St. John did confess. I wish you all success, 
 officer, I'm sure." 
 
 When Roxane had left the room, St. John, 
 obeying Burke's command to sit down, quietly 
 asked : 
 
 " What are you going to do with me, officer? " 
 
 Burke, all the brute force in his face struggling 
 to the fore, bent over him and said: 
 
 " St. John, I'm going to put you through the 
 mill through the third degree." 
 
 St. John, his eyes flashing, rose to his feet. 
 
 " You've no right to do that. Moreover, such 
 proceedings are an insult to our law." 
 
 Burke tossed his head. 
 
 " Right or no right, we're going to make you 
 confess." 
 
 St. John thought for a moment. About him 
 were clustered seven brawny, burly men, men with- 
 out pity, men whose faces already had become the 
 faces of beasts, whose professional muscles were 
 tightening, whose fingers itched as though to get
 
 290 THE CATSPAW 
 
 at his throat. He made a movement as though 
 to get at his breast-pocket; Burke stopped him in 
 an instant. 
 
 " Hands up ! " he cried. " What are you reach- 
 ing for?" 
 
 The prisoner frowned. 
 
 " Perhaps you'd better search me to make 
 sure," he answered. " I was hunting merely for 
 a piece of paper." 
 
 They searched him and found that he spoke 
 the truth. What he had sought was nothing save 
 some half-dozen blank sheets of paper in his 
 pocket, and these he now drew forth with 
 their consent and help, and laid them on the 
 table. 
 
 " The third degree," he mused softly to him- 
 self; then with all the fight gone out of him, ap- 
 parently, he looked up into the face of Burke and 
 demanded : 
 
 " What do you want to know? " 
 
 "Everything," the other told him. 
 
 " Don't disturb me, then, and I'll write it 
 down." And for twenty minutes he wrote swiftly, 
 steadily. With a long sigh, he passed over the 
 closely-written sheets to Burke.
 
 ROXANE TURNS INFORMER 291 
 
 Burke took them and read them, his smile grow- 
 ing wider as he read, his face twitching with tri- 
 umph, his soul gloating over his victory. 
 
 ;< Well, I'll be hanged if he hasn't given in to 
 everythin'I" exclaimed Burke; " everythin' from 
 the robbing of the Mordaunt Bank down to his 
 work here the whole thing, word for word!" 
 And, stepping to Mrs. Bellairs' desk, he seized an 
 envelope, folded up the signed confession, thrust 
 it into the envelope and into his breast-pocket. 
 " This goes on file to-morrow, boys," he said, 
 tapping his breast significantly; and, turning to St. 
 John, he added: " Now you come with me I've 
 got you where you can't get away." 
 
 Burke was as good as his word. He took St. 
 John with him, and that very night St. John was 
 held for examination which, indeed, he declined 
 to waive in a very considerable amount of bail, 
 which, to give him his due, was at once furnished 
 by his friends. 
 
 The next morning, Burke, with victory painted 
 all over him, stepped into the District-Attorney's 
 office. 
 
 " Prosecutor," he said, " you don't believe it, 
 do you ? "
 
 292 THE CATSPAW 
 
 The District-Attorney lighted a cigar before 
 answering : 
 
 " Burke, I can't believe it. It's my private 
 opinion that St. John had some kind of a love 
 affair on with our friend Mrs. Bellairs that 
 nobody knew about, and I think, when you 
 caught him, he let you take him as a burglar 
 in order to shield her. What else could he 
 do? Mrs. Bellairs is young, handsome, gay, 
 and those widows, you know, wouldn't stop 
 at . . .." 
 
 Burke brushed aside his remarks with a wave 
 of the hand. 
 
 '* You'll change your tune, Prosecutor," he said, 
 " when I show you his confession. It's the great- 
 est confession I ever read clears up every mys- 
 tery, and it clears it up from the inside. When 
 you've finished reading it, you'll know that the 
 man who tells the story is the man who did the 
 work. No outsider could have told what this man 
 tells. You see ..." 
 
 He tossed over the sealed envelope to the Dis- 
 trict-Attorney, who tore the envelope open and 
 pulled out a dozen sheets of paper, opened them 
 leisurely, still puffing lazily on his cigar. Sud-
 
 ROXANE TURNS INFORMER 293 
 
 denly he glanced from the sheets within his hand 
 toward Burke. 
 
 "What's this, Burke?" 
 
 Burke looked upon the sheets and rose in dazed 
 surprise. 
 
 " What the devil does it mean? " he asked. 
 
 " That's what I want to know," returned the 
 other. " Every sheet is blank." 
 
 It was quite true; the paper was unsullied by 
 the touch of ink; there was no mark of any kind 
 upon it. The District-Attorney, with amusement, 
 watched Burke's crestfallen countenance. 
 
 " Burke," he said, " there's a champagne sup- 
 per coming to me." 
 
 Burke clutched his arm feverishly. 
 
 " Don't let the boys know of this it's one on 
 me for fair." 
 
 He scrutinised the blank sheets again, and then 
 he suddenly pounded them with his clenched hand. 
 
 " I know," he exclaimed at length, " I've heard 
 of this before ! The paper is doctored; it bleaches 
 ink in a few hours after it is written on, and leaves 
 no trace. It's a slick trick, Prosecutor, but" he 
 smote the air in his impotent rage "but, don't 
 you fear; there are two things as sure as death
 
 294 THE CATSPAW 
 
 and taxes: one is that you get your champagne 
 supper; and the other is that I've got St. John! 
 Confession or no confession, I saw him rob this 
 safe half a dozen of the force saw him rob this 
 safe. I've got him, Prosecutor, got him where he 
 can't get away I "
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE DISCLOSURE 
 
 THE vigour with which the authorities were prose- 
 cuting, if not persecuting, St. John, not only puz- 
 zled the newspapers, but greatly increased public 
 sentiment in his favour. There had been some 
 question raised as to the advisability of releasing 
 him on bail. In the end, however, St. John was 
 held in twenty thousand dollars bail the Sher- 
 iff's real-estate partner and right-hand man sign- 
 ing the bond of the accused. Nevertheless, as far 
 as liberty went, St. John, to all intents and pur- 
 poses, might as well have been a prisoner, for 
 every officer and plain-clothes man were furnished 
 with a warrant or two for his arrest each one 
 issued for some one of the robberies that had 
 been committed if he made the slightest attempt 
 to leave town; while as for Burke, for the first 
 time in his campaign against St. John, he could 
 account for every movement that the latter 
 made. 
 
 During the two days that preceded his exarai- 
 295
 
 296 THE CATSPAW 
 
 nation, St. John busied himself with his personal 
 affairs. He had examined all his papers and de- 
 stroyed everything except the most important; he 
 had quietly called upon each tradesman with whom 
 he traded and paid his bill; and finally, drawing 
 checks on various banks, he closed his accounts 
 with them. 
 
 The courtroom was crowded on the day set for 
 his hearing; not a few of the fashionable world in 
 which the accused moved being present. But 
 hardly had the magistrate begun his examination 
 when there was a stir in the back of the room: 
 a tall, blond young man, who had been standing 
 at the entrance, was seen to be forcing his way 
 through the crowd and up the centre aisle in an 
 effort to get to the prisoner. And no sooner did 
 he engage in a whispered conversation with the 
 prisoner than every eye was turned upon them. 
 The people gasped with astonishment. There, in 
 front of the magistrate and facing the crowd, were 
 two men like as two peas two Kittredge St. 
 Johns ! 
 
 It took the District-Attorney some time to re- 
 cover from his surprise. At last he called out in 
 a loud voice:
 
 THE DISCLOSURE 297 
 
 11 Is Roger Sturgis in court?" 
 
 Without any hesitation, one of the two men still 
 engaged in the whispered conversation stepped 
 forward. 
 
 " Take the witness chair," commanded the Dis- 
 trict-Attorney in a voice that still showed his as- 
 tonishment. Roger Sturgis, be it said, was unknown 
 to him, but he had received from him the day 
 before a bulky letter which he considered of grave 
 importance in this case. 
 
 The other of the two men appeared amazed at 
 this new phase of the proceedings. With great 
 difficulty, he found his voice : 
 
 "Your Honour . 
 
 The Court silenced him with a severe ges- 
 ture. 
 
 The District-Attorney now addressed the wit- 
 ness on the stand. 
 
 " Mr. Sturgis, tell us, please, all you know about 
 the defendant in this case." 
 
 " May I tell it in my own way? " inquired the 
 witness. " It's a long story, sir." 
 
 And receiving permission to proceed, the wit- 
 ness began to tell how he had been educated at one 
 of the leading universities to be exact, at Yale-^
 
 298 THE CATSPAW 
 
 where his life had been unusually wild, with the 
 result that he had come out of college with no 
 especial training for anything. He had knocked 
 about throughout the East and the West mostly 
 the West hoping always for the inevitable some- 
 thing that would suit him to turn up. After some 
 years of this, one day the news came of his fa- 
 ther's failure in business his father, who had 
 kept him supplied with funds; and shortly after 
 that his father had died, leaving him stranded on 
 the high seas of adversity. 
 
 " But one day," he went on, " unutterable good 
 fortune fell upon me like a thunderbolt out of a 
 clear sky ! I picked up in the street, one morning, 
 this copy of a newspaper." 
 
 He handed the paper to the District- Attorney ; 
 it was marked in evidence, over the strenuous ob- 
 jections of the defendant's counsel. 
 
 The District-Attorney read it aloud to the 
 Court; it ran as follows: 
 
 IMPORTANT TO ACTORS AND OTHERS : Actor, producing play 
 with dual role, wants double; must be about 5 feet n inches 
 tall, broad-shouldered, slender, blond with naturally strong 
 beard. Must be refined and educated this is important. 
 Salary large; light work. Apply at once. 
 
 Xi3, THIS OFFICE.
 
 THE DISCLOSURE 299 
 
 Eagerly leaning forward in the direction of the 
 magistrate, and in a low, clear, musical voice, no 
 one in the courtroom seeming to be more at ease 
 than he, the witness continued: 
 
 ;< The story, your Honour, that I am about to 
 tell is so strange that, under ordinary circumstances, 
 I could hardly expect you to believe it; but, in my 
 own appearance and in the papers that I am able 
 to produce, I have the absolute proof of what 
 I say. I tell you frankly, therefore, that through 
 no fault of my own except, perhaps, some stu- 
 pidity on my part my share in this affair is rather 
 a foolish one. On the other hand, if the public 
 has been fooled by this man, so have I, and to a 
 far greater extent. Moreover, I am perfectly in- 
 nocent of any complicity in the series of crimes 
 that have been perpetrated by him, notwithstand- 
 ing that, if he could not have used me, he would 
 not have been able to commit them. 
 
 " When I met this man," continued the witness 
 in lowered voice, " I was starving, literally starv- 
 ing I who had been reared in luxury and who had 
 never known what it was to have a wish ungrati- 
 fied ! And a man who is starving will commit any 
 crime almost to get food take my word for it I
 
 300 THE CATSPAW 
 
 Fortunately, however, for my peace of mind, I 
 didn't have to commit any crime." 
 
 " You lie ! " exclaimed the prisoner, leaping to 
 his feet; a court officer seized him and forced 
 him back, but he would not down. 
 
 " That man is lying to you ! " he cried out, 
 pointing to the witness. " He's a perjurer, your 
 Honour! He's ..." 
 
 The court officer again silenced him. 
 
 " I must be heard," continued the prisoner 
 wildly, desperately. 
 
 The Court stood up behind his bench, and, rais- 
 ing his gavel high in the air, brought it down 
 heavily upon the marble slab. 
 
 "Silence, sir!" he roared again. "You have 
 your counsel he will speak when the time comes. 
 Unless you stop, I'll commit you for contempt." 
 
 Now few persons save those accustomed to 
 scenes in courts of law are familiar with the 
 really terrifying effect that a severe judge may 
 produce with the aid of a wooden mallet. Even 
 old and experienced counsel sometimes cower be- 
 fore an irate jurist; and that the prisoner felt this 
 fear was quite apparent. Contempt of court is a 
 serious matter, as all know, and it seemed likely
 
 THE DISCLOSURE 301 
 
 that the prisoner dreaded a commitment on that 
 score. That he, apparently, had something to say, 
 was undeniable; whether it was for effect or not, 
 is another matter. He had made strenuous efforts 
 to be heard, but he had subsided for the instant. 
 Some thought that, in case of his acquittal, he did 
 not care to risk the chance of a commitment which 
 would keep him in town just so much longer. The 
 Court, however, kept his eye on him to discounte- 
 nance any further outbreak. 
 
 " To go back to the advertisement," resumed 
 the witness, disregarding the outburst of the pris- 
 oner, " in response to my letter I received a note, 
 signed H. Harrison, requesting me to call at 83 YZ 
 Warren Street, this city. When I arrived there I 
 found a number of light-complexioned men pre- 
 ceding me; and, like the others, I took a seat to 
 await the outcome. It did not take Harrison long, 
 however, to weed out the crowd. He narrowed it 
 down to three, and I, of course, being one of the 
 three, was retained. The other two seemed to be 
 as refined and educated as I, and, likewise, as 
 shabby. Presently, we were shown a photograph 
 of a man with a blond, Vandyke beard " here 
 he paused and looked at the prisoner, the crowd
 
 302 THE CATSPAW 
 
 following his action " and we were asked if we 
 could grow beards like that. We thought we could. 
 Then he gave each of us twenty-five dollars, and 
 ordered us to report to him as soon as our beards 
 were grown. 
 
 " I need not assure you that, when I left that 
 man's presence, I had been lifted to the seventh 
 heaven. That twenty-five dollars meant compara- 
 tive prosperity; it was my salvation." 
 
 He paused a moment, and, with a long sigh, con- 
 tinued : 
 
 " Then, one day, some weeks later, we all re- 
 ported, by pre-arrangement, to this man Harrison. 
 One swift glance, however, evidently decided him 
 in my favour; for immediately he proceeded to 
 dismiss the other two, giving each of them twenty- 
 five dollars more for their trouble. And now, 
 opening a door that led into another room, he mo- 
 tioned to me to enter, which I did; and, closing 
 the door behind me, Harrison disappeared. That 
 was the last I ever saw of him or ever expect to 
 see of him. I thought, and have always thought, 
 that he was a perfectly respectable man, who was 
 engaged in the transaction of what he believed to 
 be legitimate business.
 
 THE DISCLOSURE 303 
 
 " Passing into the room into which I had been 
 shown, was another man a man seated at a table ; 
 and, as he rose and held out his hand in greeting, 
 he seemed startled at my appearance ; on the other 
 hand, I certainly was at his the likeness was so 
 striking." 
 
 The witness paused and glanced from the pris- 
 oner to the crowd; the courtroom, for the moment, 
 being so still that one could have heard a pin drop ; 
 then he resumed his narrative. 
 
 " This man at the table began by telling me that 
 he was well known in society and in the town, 
 and that great demands were constantly being made 
 upon his time; that he took a certain pride in 
 keeping all his social engagements, and all that 
 sort of thing, but that there were many more con- 
 genial ways, to his thinking, in which he could 
 devote himself. In other words, that, being a sort 
 of bohemian, he liked a considerable amount of 
 gaiety and pleasures not to be found within the 
 circle of his friends. This, he explained, had given 
 him the idea of employing some gentleman of re- 
 finement to take his place in society, thus leaving 
 him to enjoy himself in the way he liked best. He 
 wound up by asking if I were willing to undertake,
 
 3 o 4 THE CATSPAW 
 
 what he termed a mere harmless deception, at 
 the same time assuring me that he had no en- 
 tangling alliances, and that the result could 
 not possibly involve any embarrassment to 
 me." 
 
 The prisoner again sprang from his chair, where 
 he had been sitting continuously in the same ex- 
 traordinary state of excitement, exclaiming: 
 
 " Your Honour, I must be heard ! This 
 man ..." 
 
 " Silence ! " roared the Judge. The prisoner 
 fell back. 
 
 " Well," continued the witness, with greater ease 
 and freedom as he progressed, "it was such an 
 unusual proposition that, at first, it staggered me. 
 I thought it over for a long time before accepting; 
 but two things finally decided me : one was my love 
 of adventure and of harmless, practical jokes, I'm 
 through with them now, and the other was my 
 desperate strait. In the end, I accepted his propo- 
 sition; and then it was that he told me his name. 
 Whatever hesitancy I had had before, instantly 
 disappeared, for I knew the man by reputation. 
 That, gentlemen, was my first acquaintance with 
 the prisoner there H. Kittredge St. John ! " he
 
 THE DISCLOSURE 305 
 
 declared, inclining his head once more in the di- 
 rection of the defendant. 
 
 " Your Honour ! " pleaded the prisoner, " I 
 beg of you ..." 
 
 " Officers, keep the man quiet ; hold him down, 
 if necessary! " shouted the Court. 
 
 Two officers stepped to the back of the pris- 
 oner's chair and there took their station, each with 
 a hand upon his shoulder; and, although the pris- 
 oner seemed divided between a desire to have his 
 say at all odds, and the fear of some unknown 
 and undesirable punishment that might follow, 
 nevertheless he yielded. 
 
 Although he did not know it, the Court's ad- 
 monitions were of small importance; the magis- 
 trate could not have committed him for contempt 
 until after the hearing, and the prisoner's de- 
 meanour could not have affected his own rights in 
 this particular proceeding; but, nevertheless, a 
 wholesome fear of authority was still upon 
 him. 
 
 The witness calmly waited until the prisoner had 
 subsided; presently he said: 
 
 " By pre-arrangement I called on him many 
 times a dozen, perhaps before I began to serve
 
 3 o6 THE CATSPAW 
 
 him; and always he emphasised the fact that he 
 was eccentric and had a good many ideas which 
 he wished me to follow out, but which, he ad- 
 mitted, might seem to me extremely ridiculous. 
 For instance, he told me that he was invariably 
 reserved never discussed any of his private af- 
 fairs with his friends and acquaintances, as many 
 men did, and that he preferred never to be the 
 subject of conversation; that, whenever and 
 wherever I might represent him, I was never to 
 enter into the slightest conversation regarding per- 
 sonalities. This seemed reasonable enough, I 
 thought, but the request that followed it was in- 
 deed most unusual: he made me promise, that 
 while I was associated with him in any way, that 
 I would never read the daily papers, or never dis- 
 cuss the daily news, giving for reason that, in a 
 fit of anger, he had sworn to give up the daily 
 press; that he had had some violent quarrel, or 
 some kind of an experience, which he would not 
 discuss ; also, he told me that his antipathy to news- 
 papers was well-known to his friends, and that, 
 although they laughed at it, they respected it; and 
 concluded by saying that the newspapers were the 
 most monumental liars, and that they could make
 
 THE DISCLOSURE 307 
 
 or unmake a reputation in an hour. In short, he 
 became so explosively violent and abusive upon the 
 subject of the press that I assumed at once that 
 he had some very good reason for it. Beside, his 
 request did not then seem so strange to me, for 
 I had known a man who would not use the tele- 
 phone; another who would not ride on the rail- 
 road; and, again, others who had taken violent 
 dislikes to the simplest things. So I promised 
 him it didn't make much difference to me at that 
 time to follow his instructions, to be like him in 
 every particular, and began to make the necessary 
 preparations, at his expense, to take my place in 
 society. 
 
 " Of course, I lived in ease and luxury, with a 
 suite of rooms all to myself although he had 
 rooms there which occasionally he occupied. 
 Where he lived when he was not there I really 
 never knew; I never inquired; I don't know now. 
 His method was more or less like this: whenever 
 he desired me to attend a function in his stead, 
 he handed me a brief note of the people I should 
 meet; they were generally the same people; and 
 I soon became well acquainted with them. In fact, 
 with many of them I became better acquainted
 
 3 o8 THE CATSPAW 
 
 than did St. John himself. Moreover, there are 
 certain persons in this town I know of one or two 
 in particular who knew me as Kittredge St. John, 
 and, yet, who never had met St. John at all. 
 Furthermore, St. John directed me to make as 
 many new acquaintances as I could, insisting only 
 that I keep him informed as to their names and 
 whether my relations with them were cordial or 
 only formal. His special instructions always 
 written, and generally mailed to me were minute 
 in detail, stating merely when and where to go, 
 and what to say, and what to do. It seemed to 
 me to be more trouble for St. John to arrange all 
 this mild deception than it would have been for 
 him to go himself. But that was his affair. Be- 
 side, I soon learned that everybody understood 
 and humoured his harmless eccentricities, attribut- 
 ing them more to his bringing up rather than to 
 anything which he himself felt for he was gen- 
 erally considered to be a good fellow. 
 
 ' That I was honest with him, I need not as- 
 sure you; I was, indeed, grateful; and, after all, 
 he was my benefactor one that was peculiar and 
 whimsical, it is true, but still a man who had be- 
 friended me under very trying circumstances. Be-
 
 THE DISCLOSURE 309 
 
 side, it brought me in touch with the sort of peo- 
 ple I had been accustomed to associating with, and 
 I was enjoying myself." 
 
 The witness paused, and, with a sweeping 
 glance, took in the entire courtroom. There was 
 one person there, however, who, at the commence- 
 ment of the hearing, had been priding herself upon 
 the fact that she alone was responsible for this 
 criminal investigation now under way; and, as she 
 looked about her, bowing to her intimate friends, 
 it had been with a tingling satisfaction in the pun- 
 ishment that she was meting out to Kittredge St. 
 John. The woman scorned had scored. But now, 
 in a flash, everything with her was changed. 
 The instant that the two men faced the Court, 
 that instant everything became tremendously clear 
 to her; and she saw, at once, the thing that was 
 only beginning to make itself understood to the 
 bewildered spectators. A tremendous wave of re- 
 morse swept over her. She realised now that there 
 had been no ground for jealousy; that Kittredge 
 St. John had followed out, in his own great way, 
 a scheme that he had not dared to confide, even 
 to her. 
 
 " Kitt, Kitt," she moaned over and over again;
 
 3 io THE CATSPAW 
 
 " and I have done all this ! What is going to be 
 the result?" 
 
 Well might she have asked herself this ques- 
 tion she, the woman who had led him on ! The 
 terrible regret that swept over her stunned her 
 senses for a moment, but only for a moment, for 
 again the real Roxane began to assert herself. It 
 was her part now to undo what she had done, and 
 she was going to do it. But how? Her brain 
 was working fast as she intently listened to every 
 word the witness uttered. 
 
 " Fortunately for me," went on the witness, " I 
 have kept these written instructions that he gave 
 me. There are a great many of them; here they 
 are." 
 
 He passed them down to the District-Attorney, 
 who offered them in evidence; they were admitted 
 and read to the Court. 
 
 " So, you see," he continued easily, " there were 
 two Kittredge St. Johns two that never were seen 
 together, or by the same people; they kept apart. 
 It was not, however, until the night of the Varnum 
 dinner, regarding which you are all familiar, that 
 I even suspected that the man was other than he 
 had represented himself to be. This may seem
 
 THE DISCLOSURE 311 
 
 rather strange; nevertheless, it is a fact that no 
 one spoke save casually to me about these 
 crimes I, who was supposed to be Kittredge St. 
 John. Of course, something of the former trial 
 here did reach my ears, but, as all I heard was 
 accompanied with boisterous laughter and had 
 all the earmarks of a respectable and well- 
 understood joke, I paid absolutely no attention 
 to it. 
 
 " Then, one night the night of the Paget rob- 
 bery my eyes were at last fully opened. St. John 
 had asked me to attend the Varnum dinner; I had 
 made up my mind not to do so. I sought St. John 
 and told him that he had done me a signal wrong, 
 had ruined me, and that I must expose him. He 
 was in a state of dreadful agitation, which I know 
 he assumed for the purpose. He begged me to 
 attend the dinner, promising that he would make 
 a clean breast of the matter, and that he would 
 leave town and never bother anybody again. In- 
 cidentally, he reminded me that he had befriended 
 me, and that it wouldn't be just the thing to give 
 him up just then. He also said that all he wanted 
 was twelve hours to complete his arrangements; 
 that things were not as bad as they looked. My
 
 3 i2 THE CATSPAW 
 
 position, to say the least, was peculiar. I knew 
 nothing personally about the man only what I 
 surmised. I went to the dinner reluctantly, hoping 
 there would be some way out of the situation other 
 than giving him up. 
 
 " Gentlemen, you know what happened ! It was 
 I who sat in the poker game on the night of the 
 Mordaunt Bank robbery ! It was I who was the 
 guest-of-honour at the freak dinner on the night 
 when the Paget home was robbed! Kittredge St. 
 John, the man sitting there, was the man who com- 
 mitted each crime, and all the others that have 
 been so much deplored Kittredge St. John, who, 
 upon each occasion, by my instrumentality but with- 
 out my knowledge, was always amply able to prove 
 an alibi." 
 
 He stopped abruptly, as though to lend dramatic 
 emphasis to his last words. He was eminently suc- 
 cessful in this, for the courtroom buzzed with ex- 
 cited voices. 
 
 But there was one person only in the whole 
 courtroom who understood thoroughly the tremen- 
 dous situation that existed an all-important fact, 
 wholly unsuspected, which was to become known 
 within a very few minutes, and that one person
 
 THE DISCLOSURE 313 
 
 was Roxane Bellairs, who, though desperate up to 
 this point, now felt her vision clear. 
 
 " Kitt, / ought to get you clear," she thought 
 to herself, " but you 1 re going to do it as you do 
 every big thing alone." And no sooner had the 
 realisation forced itself upon her than she rose, 
 and, with as little commotion as possible, left the 
 courtroom. 
 
 " I certainly can help I will help. ... ." she 
 murmured to herself as she went. 
 
 " I have come here," wound up the witness, after 
 a pause, "to make what reparation I can for my 
 innocent share in these crimes, by revealing to you 
 the exact state of affairs as it exists. This, gentle- 
 men, is my story." And, pointing to the prisoner, 
 he added: "It is also his." 
 
 The prisoner sat spellbound, looking at the 
 witness with a fascinated gaze, in which des- 
 peration, wonder, admiration struggled for su- 
 premacy. 
 
 The witness waited for the cross-examination, 
 but there was none. He then stood up and quietly 
 asked : 
 
 " And now that I have told the truth about this 
 thing, is there any reason why I should not go?
 
 3 i4 THE CATSPAW 
 
 Your Honour has my address, where I may be 
 found any time I am wanted." 
 
 The Court looked at both counsel ; then he nod- 
 ded his head, saying: 
 
 " You may go. If you're needed later, we'll 
 send for you." 
 
 The witness stepped down from the stand, the 
 crowd making way for him as he walked slowly 
 down the centre aisle, and left the courtroom.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 WHAT FOLLOWED 
 
 "Do you desire to proceed with the defence?" 
 queried the Court. 
 
 Now the counsel for the prisoner had been 
 ruminating considerably during the testimony of 
 the last witness, and, in spite of the startling na- 
 ture of the evidence, he was pretty well prepared 
 to proceed. For of one thing he was certain : and 
 that was, that the resemblance between the two 
 men which had deceived many people before would 
 constitute a strong argument with the magistrate 
 in the defendant's favour. For was it not just as 
 likely that the witness, Roger Sturgis, had robbed 
 the bank as it was that the prisoner had done so? 
 And, from the prisoner's demeanour, he wondered 
 if he, too, had not hit upon this line of argument. 
 He had a dim recollection of the capital that had 
 been made out of the resemblance of Charles Dar- 
 nay and Sydney Carton in the "Tale of Two 
 Cities," and he proposed to take a similar advan- 
 tage here. Of course, he had had no expressed 
 
 315
 
 3 i6 THE CATSPAW 
 
 inkling of this from his client, and he had been 
 unable to prepare himself for it. Moreover, his 
 client's demeanour had changed from the instant 
 that the other man had appeared : he had kept his 
 eyes fixed upon the witness and the Court, ignor- 
 ing his counsel, even going so far as not to con- 
 fide to counsel what it was that he wished to say. 
 But, withal, he was certain that he could trust 
 him, without further preparation, on the stand; 
 in addition, he had evidence upon which he felt 
 he could absolutely rely. The situation was not 
 as bad as it might seem to be. 
 
 He touched the prisoner on the arm. 
 
 " Take the stand," he said. 
 
 The prisoner looked at him, but did not move. 
 
 " You heard your counsel," said the Court, with 
 some asperity. " Take the witness stand." 
 
 The man obeyed and was immediately sworn. 
 
 " Mr. St. John," said his counsel, " will you 
 tell us . . ." 
 
 " Wait a minute," broke in the- man on the wit- 
 ness stand. " You have made a mistake. My 
 name is not St. John." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed his counsel, unprepared 
 for this.
 
 WHAT FOLLOWED 317 
 
 " What ! " repeated the Court. " Do you mean 
 to say that the name St. John is an alias? " 
 
 " I mean," replied the man in a loud, firm voice, 
 looking the magistrate squarely in the face, " that 
 my name is not St. John; that I am not the pris- 
 oner; that ..." 
 
 " What's that, what's that! " cried the District- 
 Attorney; " not the prisoner? What do you mean, 
 sir?" 
 
 "... just what I say. H . Kittredge St. John 
 is the man who has just left the witness stand 
 the courtroom. Time and time again, sir, I tried 
 to tell you that the man who took the stand was 
 the prisoner himself; but you wouldn't hear me. 
 It is not my fault if you did not know that he was 
 the real prisoner, the ..." He broke off 
 abruptly, and then went on: "He knew that I 
 was coming here to take the stand against 
 him, so he took the stand in my place, and told 
 the story that / should have told. He knew 
 it as well as I did, and he could tell it 
 better." 
 
 " I don't believe you," said the District- 
 Attorney. "Your Honour, this is a mere 
 ruse . ."
 
 3 i8 THE CATSPAW 
 
 The witness again interrupted with : 
 
 " Your observation, sir, must be at fault. You 
 know the voice of Kittredge St. John; is it like 
 mine? The one thing that St. John did not tell 
 you was that the very points of difference between 
 us were in the voice and in the colour of the skin. 
 His face is more or less florid; mine is always 
 pale." 
 
 " By George ! " cried out the sheriff in an 
 audible voice to the crowd about him ; " that ac- 
 counts for ..." 
 
 The Court adjusted his spectacles and looked 
 at the man long and earnestly. In the end he 
 leaned back in his chair with an air of conviction 
 and announced: 
 
 " This man is not Kittredge St. John." 
 
 The Prosecutor thought for a moment before 
 asking : 
 
 " Why, then, did you not take the stand when I 
 called your name?" 
 
 " But you didn't call my name," returned the 
 prisoner. 
 
 " I did call your name," said the District- 
 Attorney testily. 
 
 " You called Roger Sturgis," responded the
 
 WHAT FOLLOWED 319 
 
 prisoner quietly. " My name is not Roger 
 Sturgis." 
 
 " Do you mean to imply that you did not write 
 this letter to me this letter signed Roger Sturgis ? 
 Look at it ! " 
 
 " If you care to find out," explained the pris- 
 oner slowly, " you are certain to discover that that 
 letter was written by Kittredge St. John. Ask the 
 bank man there, and ..." He broke off 
 sharply and concluded with: " It's my opinion, sir, 
 that you will have to look a long way before you 
 find any one answering to the name of Roger 
 Sturgis." 
 
 "But these exhibits?" went on the lawyer. 
 " How did the man come to have charge of 
 them?" 
 
 " That's simple enough," returned the other. 
 " He had a copy of the newspaper the same as I 
 did, and it was an every-day job for a man like 
 St. John to prepare copies of letters from memory 
 that he had had handed to me in the past. Here 
 are my proofs look at them." He placed an- 
 other batch of papers in the hands of the District- 
 Attorney. "St. John is a clever fellow, and he 
 knew what I was here for, knew that the man
 
 320 THE CATSPAW 
 
 that had the first say would win out. It was a 
 simple thing for him to get off the stand and walk 
 out in the open air a free man from henceforth, 
 for, mark my words, gentlemen, you will never 
 find Kittredge St. John!" 
 
 And they never did find him. 
 
 Outside on the street the idlers had seen a man 
 leap into a long, low racer that stood throbbing 
 at the curb a racer in which sat a woman at the 
 wheel, had heard the squeal of the horn, had 
 seen the woman spasmodically throw in the clutch, 
 and the car suddenly leap into life. And then, 
 like a flash, man, woman, and car disappeared. 
 
 As the racer ate up the long miles like fire, a 
 flush of shame crossed Roxane's countenance 
 shame at her tremendous mistake, but it gave her, 
 too, a different kind of emotion, for, suddenly 
 leaning forward, she whispered excitedly: 
 
 " Kitt, a life of joy lies on ahead. Faster 
 faster on ! "
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 WHAT'S IN A NAME? 
 
 WHAT Roxane Bellairs' little coterie of friends 
 regretted most, in talking over her connection with 
 the affair, was their fragmentary knowledge of it. 
 In vain they speculated, surmised, and guessed 
 possible solutions of their problem ; it always ended 
 with a consciousness of the futility of their efforts. 
 One thing seemed certain : they would never get to 
 the bottom of it all. 
 
 But in that conclusion, strangely enough, they 
 were in error. The following morning there came 
 to three of her admirers Major Holbrook, 
 Jerome Olyphant, and Archie Varnum a short, 
 delicately perfumed note, requesting their pres- 
 ence at " The Ivies." It read to this effect: 
 
 There was a time when, on the security of my bonds, you 
 loaned me money. To-morrow morning at eleven o'clock, at 
 my home, I shall be glad to cancel my obligation. 
 
 To a fourth admirer Philander Bonwit she 
 
 wrote a similarly delicately perfumed note, some- 
 
 321
 
 322 THE CATSPAW 
 
 what shorter, though quite as much to the 
 purpose : " The portrait, my good friend, is 
 finished." 
 
 And so it happened that on that morning four 
 
 genial gentlemen of the town of M separately 
 
 made their way up the long hill that led to " The 
 Ivies," Mrs. Bellairs' villa, three of the four 
 carrying papers and packages of bonds which had 
 not been disturbed since the deft fingers of Roxane 
 had tied them up. 
 
 It was with a smile of unusual proportion that 
 Mr. Bonwit reached Roxane's studio in the cupola, 
 where the butler informed him that his mistress 
 was to be found. But the smile of triumph on 
 Mr. Bonwit's face changed abruptly into an ex- 
 pression of anxiety when he entered the room and 
 found, to his dismay, his three friends there be- 
 fore him the three men holding their sides and 
 roaring with laughter. Before them was a fin- 
 ished portrait, but not the portrait that Mr. Bon- 
 wit had expected to see ; not that that he had seen 
 begun with his own eyes, and that he had posed 
 for; but a portrait, chiefly of Mr. Bonwit's back, 
 with the safe as a background, before which he 
 had been photographed by his erstwhile fiancee.
 
 WHAT'S IN A NAME? 323 
 
 The round and shiny handle of the combination- 
 lock the artist had sketched with wonderful skill 
 into a good-sized mirror, into which the Bonwit in 
 the picture gazed soulfully upon himself, carefully 
 adjusting his tie with one hand and arranging his 
 scanty locks with the other. It was Mr. Bonwit's 
 back to the life; it crystallised his vanity in con- 
 crete form. 
 
 For some moments, while his friends pointed 
 at him and the portrait with derisive laughter, Mr. 
 Bonwit grew hot and cold by turns. When he 
 could trust himself to speak, he grasped Major 
 Holbrook by the arm and pointed meaningly to- 
 ward the background of the picture. 
 
 " Major," he gasped, " doesn't this look like 
 the picture that was used to rob our safe ! Who 
 why . . ." 
 
 In an instant the men sobered. Instinctively 
 they knew that Mr. Bonwit was right : before them 
 was the duplicate save for the exaggerated com- 
 bination handle and the pursy figure of Mr. Bon- 
 wit of the pseudo-safe behind which Kittredge 
 St. John had worked with such ease in the Manu- 
 facturers' National Bank. 
 
 "What does it mean?" spoke up Archie Var-
 
 3 24 THE CATSPAW 
 
 num, exchanging glances of wonderment with the 
 others. 
 
 " We'll ask her," returned Olyphant. 
 
 " But where is she why doesn't she come ? " 
 asked the Major uneasily. 
 
 Acting on some inward note of warning, Major 
 Holbrook drew forth the letter that had sum- 
 moned him to Mrs. Bellairs' house that morning; 
 Varnum and Olyphant followed suit, while Mr. 
 Bonwit mentally conned the single message relat- 
 ing to the finished condition of the portrait. 
 
 Presently a footman entered the room. Quickly 
 turning to him, the Major asked: 
 
 " Did your mistress leave any word when she 
 would return? " 
 
 " Nothing, except to tell you that you should 
 make yourselves at home." 
 
 And, having dismissed the servant, they pro- 
 ceeded to discuss the situation. At length Archie 
 Varnum declared: 
 
 " It's all a puzzle to me. Here she puts up these 
 good bonds, borrows less than their face value, and 
 then, apparently, runs away. I'd rather have the 
 bonds than what I loaned her on them." 
 
 11 Would you, Archie?" inquired Major Hoi-
 
 WHAT'S IN A NAME? 325 
 
 brook, a new note in his tone that made the other 
 men sit up. 
 
 Without another word, Varnum proceeded to 
 unwrap his little packet and, exhibiting the top 
 one, he asked excitedly: 
 
 "What's the matter with this?" And then, 
 before they could answer, he began to thumb the 
 packet, but, to their wondering gaze, drew forth 
 the worthless bonds that filled in between the top 
 and the bottom one. 
 
 " Thunderation ! " exclaimed Archie. " If she 
 hasn't . . . " He stopped short, his eyes eagerly 
 following Major Holbrook's examination of his 
 securities, only to bring forth similar worthless 
 paper. 
 
 "Jumpin' Jerusalem!" yelled out Archie. 
 " Are you stung, too ? Joyl Joy! Joy!" 
 
 Major Holbrook turned pale and angry. 
 
 " I don't see where the joy comes in," he re- 
 torted swiftly. And, turning to Bonwit, he added: 
 " Bonwit, your fiancee is far too clever for a man 
 like you." 
 
 " I should think she was," muttered Bonwit, 
 growing red in the face as he spoke. " But there's 
 one thing I can say that you chaps can't I
 
 326 THE CATSPAW 
 
 didn't loan any money on bonds. It's a darn 
 shame ..." 
 
 A suspicious moisture gathered in Mr. Bonwit's 
 eyes. Turning his back upon his three cronies, he 
 stepped into the farther corner of the room, where 
 he regained his composure sufficiently to slick his 
 hair and arrange his tie before the mirror there. 
 When he returned, he observed calmly: 
 
 " Well, gentlemen, there's only one mate for a 
 woman of this kind our friend, Kitt St. John." 
 
 Meanwhile, in a different part of the town, a 
 scene was being enacted that was not without 
 pathos. 
 
 " I have come to say good-bye," a man was say- 
 ing to a girl who was trying hard to control her 
 emotions. 
 
 " To say good-bye," she echoed faintly. " I 
 don't understand ..." 
 
 1 You have heard you have read the morning 
 papers? " 
 
 The girl shook her head. 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me that you do not know 
 the story that was told in court before a multitude 
 of people? "
 
 WHAT'S IN A NAME? 327 
 
 Again the girl shook her head and murmured :^ 
 
 " No only a very little I have refused to see 
 the papers, to listen to . . . " 
 
 The man seemed lost in the extremity of won- 
 der. He started to speak, checked himself, and 
 finally said in a low voice : 
 
 1 You see before you a man, at whom one-half 
 the town laughs the other half scorns. On the 
 whole, I think I would rather be the clever scoun- 
 drel who is cutting his way through the dis- 
 tance, no one knows where, than to be the dupe, 
 the fool, the stupid, blundering idiot I have 
 been!" 
 
 " But, I don't understand you 1 " She looked up 
 at him appealingly. 
 
 He was silent a moment before he broke out 
 again in self-upbraidings. 
 
 " I say it was dastardly in me to do this thing. 
 But, suffering as I was, the temptation was too 
 great ..." 
 
 The girl's bosom heaved, the tears rushed to 
 her eyes. 
 
 " Oh, Kitt, how could you why did you do it? 
 Surely ..." 
 
 The man held up his hand.
 
 328 THE CATSPAW 
 
 " Kitt! " he exclaimed at her use of that name. 
 " How many times," he asked, " how many 
 times do you think that Kittredge St. John has 
 been inside this house? " Distressed as he was, he 
 half-smiled. 
 
 The girl was puzzled. 
 
 " I don't know," she answered mechanically. 
 " How many times has he how many times have 
 you been here? " 
 
 " Kittredge St. John," went on the man, " has 
 been here only once; that once was the night he 
 burglarised your house." 
 
 " What ! " exclaimed the girl. She was dazed. 
 "Only once, Kitt!" 
 
 " I am not Kittredge St. John; I am . . . " He 
 did not give her time to interpose a word, but went 
 on rapidly to say : " Dorothy, I have come to say 
 good-bye. You will soon know why I would give 
 anything almost if you had read if you had heard 
 my story from other people. It would save me 
 much humiliation, spared you this explanation. 
 You know," he continued, " that, time and time 
 again, I have promised to explain the strange mys- 
 tery that enveloped me. In fact, many times I 
 have been on the point of telling you, but, even
 
 WHAT'S IN A NAME? 329 
 
 when I knew the truth in all its hideousness, I 
 still kept faith with the man whom, somehow, I 
 had learned to look upon as a benefactor the 
 man who, at last, has well-nigh ruined me. But 
 now, if you will hear me to the end, I will tell 
 you everything." 
 
 Dorothy's lips quivered, but she did not speak. 
 Whereupon, without excuse of any kind, without 
 sparing himself in any way, he told her the same 
 story that had been told in the courtroom the day 
 before and that was literally being heralded from 
 the house-tops. When he had concluded, he turned 
 to her and said somewhat sadly: " I would like to 
 hear you say, Dorothy, that you forgive me; then 
 I'll go." 
 
 The girl stood motionless. She was overpow- 
 ered with what she had heard the mystery, the 
 exposure, and, above all, the weakness of the man 
 who faced her. After a while, she said in a low 
 voice : 
 
 " But where are you going why should you 
 go ... ?" 
 
 " Ah, you don't understand," he answered 
 thoughtfully. " From the standpoint of the town, 
 my position is not an enviable one. They know
 
 330 THE CATSPAW 
 
 me as a catspaw, an under-dog. And yet . . ." 
 He shrugged his shoulders hopelessly. 
 
 Impulsively the girl crossed the room and laid 
 her hand upon his arm. 
 
 " No," she said, " you're not going to leave 
 town, you're going to stay right here and face 
 what there is to face show the people that you're 
 not afraid to bear the brunt of their cavil and 
 criticism." 
 
 " Do you mean to say that you'll forgive me 
 that you can forgive . . ." 
 
 " Forgive ! " she exclaimed. " There is noth- 
 ing for me to forgive." 
 
 " But surely you must despise me," he went 
 on, his face white and set. " Fortunately, though, 
 the town knows but little of our relations, 
 for I took good care, while I believed in St. 
 John, that none should know about you and 
 myself." 
 
 " But how can I despise you," she murmured 
 softly, "when I love you as I do?" 
 
 'You have said it, Dorothy; it remained for 
 you to say it ; I couldn't even hope that you would 
 say it." He laughed. It was good to hear him. 
 There were relief and joy and happiness in that
 
 WHAT'S IN A NAME? 331 
 
 free laugh of his. But it lasted only a moment, 
 for soon his face grew grave again. 
 
 " Why, it is not possible ! " he said. " I am 
 looked upon as an outcast, a . . ." 
 
 " Do you mean to say," she interrupted, look- 
 ing him full in the face, "that there is nothing 
 in this world worth while but public opinion ? Do 
 you mean to say that two people, who have been 
 bound together as you and I have, can be sepa- 
 rated by the fear of public opinion? Is your na- 
 ture no deeper than that?" She paused. "I 
 would not say this perhaps I ought not to say 
 this if I did not think that you really loved me. 
 I can't tell you how much relieved I am to have 
 heard your story from your own lips, to know that 
 you are really the man that I had hoped you were. 
 For if ever a girl in this world doubted the man 
 she loved yes, I admit it, I have doubted you. 
 Of course when you were with me I believed you 
 against all reason, but when you were away I 
 could do nothing but reason against all belief. 
 But, if you think," she continued in a lighter vein, 
 " that you can escape from an entangling alliance 
 by the argument that you have advanced this 
 morning, you are very much mistaken. For there
 
 332 THE CATSPAW 
 
 are two parties to every compact, and in this case 
 I happen to be one of them." 
 
 She stopped and moved towards him. He took 
 her in his arms, a look of Capture succeeding the 
 look of wonder in his eyes. 
 
 Presently he put her away from him, and, squar- 
 ing his shoulders, he said : 
 
 " But let me tell you this, dear, before we go 
 any further. I'm going to live down all the past, 
 prove to you and everybody that I'm not what 
 they think I am, that I'm not a catspaw, but a 
 man; and when I've done that, and not a day 
 before, Dorothy, will I claim you for my 
 
 own." 
 
 Her face was radiant as she raised her lips to 
 his. 
 
 " But I've claimed you, Kitt," she whispered 
 softly to him. 
 
 To his surprise, he found himself laughing. 
 
 " But please remember that I'm not Kitt ..." 
 
 Dorothy made a little moue and glanced archly 
 into his eyes. She placed both hands confidingly 
 upon his straight shoulders, and, as he gathered 
 her in his arms, she looked up into his face and 
 whispered :
 
 WHAT'S IN A NAME? 333' 
 
 "There's one thing, though, that you haven't 
 told me, one thing I want very much to know." 
 
 "And what is that?" he answered, smiling 
 down upon her. 
 
 " ( Your name," she told him coyly. 
 
 THE END
 
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