The Mask: A Story of Love and Adventure
glance at his master, he said:
"There is a train at 1.15. If Madame is quick, she will make it. The
car is already waiting downstairs."
Helen seized her fur coat, which the obliging valet had also brought up
from the hall.
"Yes--yes. Throw a few things in my bag. You needn't come, Ken. I'll
telephone you directly I get to Philadelphia. Good-bye!"
The next instant she was gone and the gambler, with a muttered curse,
went to the sideboard and poured out a glass of whiskey, with which to
drown his disappointment.
CHAPTER XVI
For a person so fastidious and particular, so fond of the luxurious and
the elegant, Signor Keralio had certainly selected a queer neighborhood
for his abode. Miles distant from the fashionable centers, far away up
in the Bronx, he occupied the entire top floor of a dingy, broken down
tenement. There were no other people in the house, it being in such
bad repair that no one cared to live in it, and as Keralio paid as much
as all the previous tenants combined and made no requests for
improvements, the landlord was only too glad to leave him undisturbed.
It was situated at the extreme end of a blind alley and, there being no
egress from the street save at one end, there was consequently little
or no traffic and, for the great part of the day and night, the silence
was as deep and unbroken as in the open country.
With his neighbors Signor Keralio was distantly polite, but never
intimate. The district was a poor one, being settled mostly by Italian
laborers who rose and went to bed with the sun and toiled too long and
too hard each day to bother their heads as to why such a fine gentleman
as the Signor appeared to be, should live in such squalid quarters. No
one had ever been admitted to his flat. If the baker called, he left
the bread on the mat; if a chance peddler or book agent happened to
wander in, he had to talk through closed doors. The Signor was always
busy and could not be disturbed. The lights often burned all night
long, and sometimes people drove up in a taxi and went away again. For
a while the corner gossips speculated idly as to who he might be, but
gradually they lost all interest. When he purchased trifles at the
corner grocery he gave out casually that he was a newspaper man and had
to work all night, and the fact that muffled sounds of hammering and
machinery in motion had been heard at all hours, only helped to make
the explanation more plausible.
To-night, Keralio was perhaps more anxious than at any time to
discourage callers--especially should they happen to be inquisitive
secret service agents. Another few days and he would have nothing more
to fear. The presses would soon have completed their work and $500,000
worth of as fine a $10 counterfeit as ever deceived a bank teller would
be ready for distribution. Half of them had already been run off and,
as he held them up to the light and critically examined the silken
thread that ran here and there through the specially prepared paper and
noted the careful coloring, the beautifully geometrical lathe work and
skilfully traced signatures, he silently congratulated himself. Here
was half a million dollars' worth of splendid currency. Detection was
absolutely impossible. Had not Francois already succeeded in passing a
lot? After all had been disposed of, he could afford to take a rest.
On the proceeds of this rich haul, he could live like a prince for a
few years in Europe, and when that was all gone, he still had the
diamonds to fall back upon. Glancing at the clock, he wondered why
Handsome did not come. He was anxious to get possession of the
diamonds. It was too soon to attempt doing anything with the stones
now. The hue and cry would be too loud. All the diamond markets would
be watched, if they were not already. He had a suspicion that Parker
and Steell suspected something wrong. Francois had seen the President
in earnest consultation with the lawyer directly after Handsome had
announced the loss. He had not been able to hear what was said, but
from their manner he inferred that the diamonds were the sole subject
of conversation. They did not question Handsome's identity. That
never entered their heads, but they doubted his story of losing the
stones. They, no doubt, thought he had used the diamonds to make good
Wall Street losses.
He chuckled as he thought how admirably his scheme had worked out. He
had hinted at Kenneth being heavily short in this street, which at once
explained a motive for Kenneth diverting the stones to his own use.
Yes, he had triumphed over them all--except one. Helen Traynor, so
far, had foiled him in everything, and the more she resisted and
insulted him, the more determined he was to drag her at his feet.
Handsome, poor devil, fondly imagined he would inherit the wife as well
as the fortune. How could he guess that he, Keralio, would send a
bogus telegram just in time to dash the cup from his lips.
Impatiently he strode up and down the rooms. Why was Handsome late? A
frown darkened his face. He had better not trifle with him. He must
obey without question or take the consequences. He was in no mood to
be defied.
Suddenly, he started and listened. His alert ear had caught the sound
of approaching footsteps on the stairs outside. A moment later came
three deliberate knocks on the door, a signal which indicated a
friendly visitor. Quickly, Keralio went forward and withdrew the bolt.
Francois entered, suit case in hand. Hardly before he could take
breath after the long climb, Keralio exclaimed:
"Well, how are they going?"
The Frenchman grinned.
"_A merveille_! Like hot cakes. I've passed all of zem. Good work,
is it not?"
"And the real stuff?" demanded Keralio.
"Is in here."
The valet pointed to the leather case.
Eagerly Keralio seized the portmanteau, and, opening it, emptied the
contents. A perfect shower of greenbacks--genuine ones this time--fell
upon the floor. With shaking hands, like a miser who trembles as he
handles his hoarded gold, Keralio picked up the money by armfuls and,
taking it to a table, proceeded to count it.
"Is it all here?" he demanded suspiciously.
The valet scowled.
"Do you think I'm holding any back on you? _Ma foi, non_!"
Keralio, still counting, fixed his assistant with steely, piercing eyes.
"No, Francois, I think you know me too well for that. You know I never
forget a service; you also know I never forgive anyone who crosses my
will."
The valet shrugged his shoulders. In an injured tone he asked:
"What's all ze talk about? I work well for you. I do your dirty work,
_n'est ce pas_? I never complain--I am faithful. What more would you
have?"
"Why should you complain? You get your share," rejoined his chief
sternly.
The valet was silent and Keralio went on:
"A few days more and we'll be rid of all the new stuff. Then we'll
take down the presses and carry away the parts, piece by piece. When
we're ready to leave this hole, there won't be a shred of evidence
left. Have you heard any news from our man in Washington? What are
the secret service men doing?"
"Ze alarm is given. Zey have spotted several of ze bills. Half a
dozen of ze cleverest sleuths in ze country have been put on our trail.
Zey will not succeed. Ze scent is cold. We've got zem completely
doped."
Keralio looked anxious.
"Is there any danger of them having shadowed you and followed you here?"
"No--_mon cher, pas le mains du monde_. It took me three hours to come
here from ze Pennsylvania station--such a crazy in and out route I gave
ze chauffeur. If they succeed in following such a labyrinth as that,
they deserve to get us."
Keralio smiled and pointed to a bottle of brandy on the table.
Approvingly, he said:
"Good boy! There, take a drink and a cigar----"
After the valet had refreshed himself, he again confronted his chief.
"What else _a votre service_?"
Keralio pointed carelessly to a seat. In a commanding tone, he said:
"Yes--I have more work for you. Sit down. I will tell you."
The valet took a chair and waited. Keralio looked at him meditatively
for a moment. Then suddenly he asked:
"When did you leave the house?"
"This afternoon at three o'clock."
"When did Mrs. Traynor return from Philadelphia?"
"Yesterday--furious at the hoax played upon her? Miss Dorothy is
perfectly well----"
Keralio smiled.
"Of course. I sent that telegram."
The valet grinned. Admiringly, he exclaimed:
"You are admirable! _Quel homme, mon dieu, quel homme_!"
Paying no heed to the compliment, Keralio went on:
"What did Handsome say?"
"He is puzzled himself and can't understand. Everyone's up in the air.
They think it is a discharged maid who did it for spite."
"The next time Mrs. Traynor receives a sudden message about her baby it
will not be a hoax."
The valet looked up in surprise.
"What do you mean?"
Keralio did not answer the question immediately, but sat nervously
twisting his fingers, a moody sullen look in his pale saturnine face.
At last, breaking the heavy silence, he said:
"That woman insulted me. You saw it. You were there----"
The valet nodded.
"You mean she put you out--ah, _oui_, she has a _diable_ of a temper
when angry."
Keralio nodded.
"Yes--that I can never forgive. She shall ask my pardon on her knees.
I will break her spirit, humiliate her pride. I have been taxing my
brain how to do it. At last I have hit on a plan--one that cannot fail
and you shall help me."
"In what way _s'il vous plait_?"
Bending forward, his black eyes flashing, Keralio said earnestly:
"That woman is devoted to only two beings in this world--her husband
and her baby. Sooner or later, perhaps only in a few days, she will
discover that Handsome is an impostor. He is such a fool that exposure
is inevitable. The blow will almost kill her. Above all, it will
humiliate her pride to know that unwittingly she has allowed that
drunken brute, that poor counterfeit of her husband, to caress and
fondle her. Next in her affections comes her baby. If any danger
threatened the child, she would stop at nothing, she would make any
sacrifice to ward off the danger. I propose to bring about just that
situation----"
The valet half started up from his chair. Hardened and callous as he
was in crime, he was hardly prepared to go to that extreme.
"Death?" he exclaimed, horror stricken, "you would kill ze child?"
"No fool--not kill the child. I'll kidnap it--that's all. We'll bring
the child here and, then I'll write the mother, telling her where it is
and to come to it, but warning her that if she values the child's life,
she must tell no one, and must come here unaccompanied. Once she is
here, I will take care of the rest. Do you understand?"
The valet breathed more freely.
"So you will that I----"
His chief nodded.
"Precisely. You'll take the flyer to Philadelphia. Say you come from
the mother. They'll have no suspicion. Take the child and come here
at once. Understand?"
"_Oui_, monsieur."
Keralio rose. In commanding tones, he said:
"Then go at once."
The valet went to get his hat. As he approached the door Keralio
halted him and said:
"What's Handsome doing--keeping sober?"
"He has to, for I lock up all ze liquor. He lives like a lord, buying
swell clothes, riding in ze automobile. Last night he lost at ze club
$10,000 he had drew from ze bank."
Keralio gave a low whistle.
"The deuce he did! Living high, eh? Well--that's all right. Let him
enjoy it. His gay life won't last long--only just as long as it suits
my purpose."
"Hush! Not a word--here he is!"
From the landing outside came the sound of a heavy body lurching. Then