The unknown seven A detective story
It sounded a bit lofty, pathetically so, he thought.
“Cole,” he replied.
“Oh!” The exclamation was more a sigh of relief. “But I can’t let you
in. The door is locked, and I have no key.”
“I might have known it,” muttered Cole. The space between the door
and the wall of the tower was very narrow. Bracing his back against
the wall he placed his feet on the door and shoved steadily. It was
of stout material, but at length it gave with an abruptness that
precipitated him to the floor. Quickly he picked himself up.
The girl rushed toward him. There was an excited flush which
surmounted the white of her face. “I am so glad——” she began.
“You were foolish,” Cole sternly interrupted. “You shouldn’t have
started after Ballinger alone. That’s no job for a woman. What
happened?”
“Ballinger was too clever for me,” she confessed. “The moment I thought
I had him I was shoved into a car, blindfolded, and—— Well, that’s
about all I know. When I opened my eyes the next morning I found myself
here.”
“How have they treated you?”
“Oh, very well, suspiciously well. I have been told that prisoners who
are doomed to die always get the best of everything. Mr. Cole, you have
thrown a full-sized scare into the gang. I heard a couple of the men
talking outside my door this morning. I suppose they felt sure I would
never have a chance to repeat what I heard. They said——”
“Not so loud!” admonished Cole.
“I gathered from what they said,” she went on in a whisper, “that the
leaders of the gang are badly frightened. They seem to think you are
hot on their trail.”
“They’re mistaken,” declared Cole modestly. “I’ve barely got started as
yet.”
“Well, all the same they are very much worried. Their plan, as one of
the men put it, is to make a swift clean-up and a quick get-away. Some
one, whom they called ‘the big chief,’ was to come out here to-night.”
“About a dozen men arrived a little while ago,” Cole informed her. “No
doubt the chief was among them. Do you know who he is?”
“No. He wasn’t referred to by name in the conversation which I
overheard. I am sure, though, that Doctor Latham isn’t the man. In fact
I never really thought so. More of my woman’s intuition, I suppose.”
“What else did the men say?” he asked in a whisper.
“They said there is about half a billion dollars’ worth of gold ready
to be minted. I didn’t quite understand what they meant by that. There
is a complete set of machinery hidden somewhere about the place, and it
is running at full capacity.”
“I should think the comings and goings of the gang would excite the
curiosity of the townspeople across the river.”
“Oh, they’ve managed that part very cleverly by circulating a report
to the effect that the buildings are being renovated and that Dutchess
Point is to be reopened as a pleasure resort next spring. In fact, they
have put a crew of carpenters, roadmakers and gardeners to work on the
place. Just for a blind, of course. It seems they haven’t neglected a
single precaution. Yet they seem to be worried over something.”
“Excellent! When your enemy is worried, you have an advantage over him.
What seems to be the trouble?”
“I couldn’t quite make out. All I heard was a few scattered remarks. It
appears they are having some difficulty with the gold-making process.
There seems to be a minor flaw in the product, due to the absence of
something which they refer as the seventh ingredient. I haven’t the
least idea what it is, but it seems to be related to the experimental
work Doctor Latham conducted before he severed his connection with the
gang. They appear to think that he could solve their difficulty if he
was so inclined.”
“By supplying the formula for the seventh ingredient?”
“Something like that. Anyway, that was the impression I received.
Evidently the missing ingredient isn’t of very great importance, but
they want to make the product as perfect as possible.”
“For the sake of safety in minting and circulating it, I suppose,”
said Cole thoughtfully. “Apparently Latham left them at an inopportune
time from their point of view. Doubtless they would exert any manner
of pressure on him in order to make him divulge the secret of this
so-called seventh ingredient.”
“I doubt if they would succeed.”
“So do I,” said Cole, looking curiously at the girl. “Latham is a
fighter clean through, and he is a match for them. By the way, he came
out with me this evening.”
She caught her breath and fixed her wide, troubled eyes on his face.
“Doctor Latham here?” she murmured. “Did he volunteer to come with you?”
“I invited him to come, and he jumped at the invitation. I foresaw that
he would prove useful, and he was doubly anxious to come when I hinted
that our expedition to-night might reveal your whereabouts. Your
disappearance came as a great shock to him.”
“Then you no longer think he is implicated with these scoundrels?”
“No, I don’t. He was with them until he saw that their aims were
crooked, and then he got out as best he could. Latham has acted
foolishly, but that’s all. The scientific side of these experiments
appealed to the scholar in him. I don’t think he was ever moved by
greed. No, Latham wasn’t to be blamed. Whenever a man is in love he is
apt to make a fool of himself.”
She lowered her eyes. “Doctor Latham is a good man,” she said tensely.
“I wish I could——” A gentle sigh escaped her.
“I understand,” murmured Cole. “Life is a bit of a tangle, isn’t it?
Even the logical mind of a scholar isn’t able to steer clear of the
meshes when a charming woman is involved. One never knows——”
He paused, threw a quick glance at the door, then looked at Miss
Brownell, noting the tensity that had suddenly crept into her face.
In an instant his automatic was in his hand, and he tiptoed softly to
the door. Holding it open a crack, he heard unmistakably the sounds of
footsteps coming up the stairs.
“Stand back!” he ordered curtly. “Some one’s coming!”
But the girl, smiling faintly, signified with a shrug that she intended
to remain where she was.
CHAPTER XXII
A DUEL OF WITS
Cole opened the door a trifle wider. The footfalls, furtive and
hesitant, sounded as if several men were coming up the protesting
stairs. He fancied there were many others below who were ready to jump
into the fight if he should be successful in disposing of the ones now
approaching. His mind worked with lightning speed as he turned away
from the door.
The room, hexagonal in shape, with a tall window at each angle, was
lighted from a tarnished brass fixture at one side. While watching
the light from the outside, Cole had noticed that from the windows to
the ground was a sheer drop of one hundred and fifty feet, so escape
in that direction was impossible. The walls, covered with once gaudy
paper that was now faded and torn, seemed to offer no loophole. The
unswept floor was cluttered with pieces of dilapidated furniture of
a kind which suggested that the room had once served as a rendezvous
for gamblers. The single door was the only exit, and flight in that
direction was cut off by the men now creeping up the stairs. As nearly
as Cole could determine from the sounds, they were as yet only halfway
up. For an instant his thoughts flew to Doctor Latham, and he wondered
if the physician was still waiting for him outside.
He stepped quickly toward the girl. “Talk,” he whispered, “talk about
anything.”
She took her cue with a comprehending nod, and Cole hastened back to
the door.
“But I don’t know, so how can I tell you?” she asked in a tone whose
naturalness instantly won his approval. He was quick to follow up her
lead.
“You have no idea who the leader of these cutthroats is?” he asked in a
slightly nettled tone.
“None whatever.”
He listened for a moment. The footsteps were coming gradually closer.
When he spoke again, he threw his voice so that it sounded as if coming
from the center of the room, a ventriloquial trick he had practiced
when a boy and often found useful.
“You have been here a good many hours,” he pointed out. “I thought you
might have overheard something that gave you a clew.”
“You forget that I have been locked up in this room all the time.”
“That’s so,” Cole admitted, tightening his grip on his automatic. The
footfalls on the stairs had ceased. Evidently the persons who were
approaching had stopped to listen to the conversation. “You haven’t
seen any one who looks as if he might be the boss of the outfit?”
“No one,” she declared convincingly. “So far I have come in contact
only with underlings. The man higher up, whoever he is, has remained in
the background. Of course, I could make a guess.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Doctor Latham.”
Cole smiled. It was an excellent bit of strategy, and he was confident
that the men below had heard. Her cleverly simulated suspicion in
regard to the physician was well calculated to deceive them in regard
to the extent and accuracy of her information.
“You may be right,” he said thoughtfully just as the footsteps began to
move upward again, and once more his voice sounded as if coming from
the interior of the room. “I’ve had my eyes on the doctor myself. He is
a sly bird, but I’m not sure that his cranium is the adequate size for
a job of this kind. However he will bear watching. But we’re wasting
time. The first thing to do is to get you safely out of this nest of
crooks. I think the way is clear, but we must——”
“You’re a little bit slow,” said a voice, and the door came open,
admitting a stocky individual with a leveled automatic. He came
straight forward, stopping bewilderedly as he saw only the girl, and
in that instant Cole reached out behind him, seized him firmly by the
neck and, swinging him backward with a powerful sweep, slammed his head
against the wall. With a fragmentary cry the man went lurching to the
floor, and in almost the same instant Cole whirled round and struck
his companion a vigorous blow with the butt of his pistol. The fellow
dropped like a dead-weight.
“Two of them!” exclaimed Cole, feeling quite elated at the success of
his ruse. “Where’s the third?”
Miss Brownell, breathing rapidly, looked hard at the door. Cole glanced
out, but there was neither sign nor sound of movement on the stairs.
“I thought there were several of them,” he muttered. “Must have been
mistaken. Sounds are deceptive, you know. This may come in handy.”
He stooped, picked up the weapon dropped by his second adversary,
and handed it to Miss Brownell. With an expert air she examined the
mechanism, making sure it was loaded.
“You worked the trick to the queen’s taste, Miss Brownell,” he declared
approvingly. “It was a good piece of work.”
“But you did it all.”
“Far from it! I couldn’t have thrown them off their guard if you hadn’t
helped. Do you know,” peering at her curiously, “I was afraid you would
faint, or something like that.”
She laughed. “You haven’t a very high opinion of our sex, Mr. Cole.”
“It is rising every moment. We must get away before these rascals come
to. Feel strong enough for a walk?”
“Just try me! Your exhibition of fisticuffs was so stimulating that I
am ready for anything.”
“Then let’s start. Latham must be wondering what has become of me.”
With a glance at his fallen foes, Cole started down the stairs, the
girl following. He did not wish to alarm her by voicing his misgivings,
but he was far from certain that they would reach the bottom without
an interruption. Doubtless the others must be aware by this time that
something was amiss. The burly sentinel he had knocked down at the foot
of the stairs had probably either recovered consciousness or been found
by his accomplices. In either event, their path was beset by perils.