The unknown seven A detective story
the murderous weapon from the professor’s hand, but Doctor Latham
acted even more quickly. With a sudden bound he crossed the floor and
placed himself directly in front of the chair in which the girl sat.
For a moment the pistol pointed straight at his midriff; then, with an
exclamation of baffled rage, Carmody lowered the weapon.
“Fool!” he snarled. “Step out of the way this instant, or I’ll kill
both of you.” Once more the pistol rose in his hand.
Very calmly, while Cole marveled at his audacity, Latham took a case
from his pocket and with ostentatious serenity lighted a cigarette.
“Fire away,” he said coolly, folding his arms across his chest and
smoking with an air of perfect content.
Carmody regarded him with a baleful glare, then abruptly changed his
mind and started backing toward the door. He slammed it behind him with
unnecessary vigor, and they heard the bolt slide in the lock. Latham
flung away his cigarette.
“Whew!” he exclaimed. “That was fairly exciting. I didn’t like the way
Carmody looked when he left us, though. The old rat has something up
his sleeve.”
Cole nodded, wondering at the meaning of the professor’s hasty exit.
“Our only hope is to spar for time, and we have been fairly successful
so far,” he remarked. “That was a neat maneuver, Latham.”
“It was splendid!” exclaimed the girl, and Cole noted a new expression
in her wide, lustrous eyes as she fixed them on the physician. “But you
mustn’t do it again,” she added firmly. “He might shoot next time.”
“How is the foot?” inquired Latham.
“Better—much better. I think I can step down on it now.”
“You had better not try as yet,” said the physician with a professional
air. “Cole and I may challenge you to a foot race by and by, and you
must preserve your energies.”
She merely smiled at this, and again Cole noted the new, tender
expression in her face. He was about to frame a remark, but just then
the door opened. Two burly, hard-faced men, each with an automatic in
his hand, entered the room.
“The big chief wants to see you,” announced one of them. “This way.” He
pointed toward the open door.
Cole glanced narrowly at the weapon in his hand, then decided that
at the present moment resistance would be worse than useless. There
were other lives besides his own to be considered. Evidently the same
thought had occurred to the doctor. After a moment’s hesitation and an
exchange of glances with Cole, he took the girl in his arms and carried
her out followed by Cole.
One of the armed men, walking at the head of the little procession,
opened the door.
“In there,” he directed. “Step lively!”
He gave Cole an ungentle shove with his automatic, and the three
prisoners walked through the door.
CHAPTER XXV
FACE TO FACE
Cole glanced about the room they had entered. Its sparse furnishings
suggested that it had been arranged in haste. There were a desk and
a telephone, hinting that it served as the executive office of the
gold-mad crowd, also a few chairs, a huge steel safe, and a cot. The
cluttered condition of the desk indicated that some one had recently
been sitting there and would probably soon return. Cole’s gaze rested
longingly on the telephone, the only connecting link with the outside
world.
Very gently Doctor Latham placed the girl in one of the chairs. As she
looked up at him, her eyes were full of trust and gratitude.
The doctor turned to one of the armed guards at the door.
“Where is the benevolent gentleman whom you call the big chief?” he
inquired.
“You’ll see him soon enough,” replied the man surlily.
“Good!” exclaimed Latham. “At last my curiosity shall be satisfied. We
have a pretty good idea what he looks like—eh, Cole?”
“I think we do,” said Cole, a smile tugging at his lips. “Once or twice
before my suspicions turned in the direction of the man I have in mind,
but something threw me off the track. Now I am almost sure.”
Cole’s next words were spoken in an undertone, too low for the girl to
hear. “You realize what you are up against, don’t you, Latham?”
“Against a bunch of cockeyed devils, of course.”
“I had something more specific in mind. Professor Carmody has failed
to bully us, so now the big chief himself is to have a try at it. You
realize, of course, that he wouldn’t allow himself to be seen by us
unless——” He paused and looked gravely at the doctor.
“Yes, I understand,” whispered Latham, throwing an uneasy glance at
Miss Brownell. “He wouldn’t show himself to us if he thought there was
the slightest chance that we would ever tell tales about him. These
scoundrels are planning to murder us, Cole.”
“So it looks, but not until they have made one more effort to make you
reveal the formula for the seventh ingredient.”
There was a look of sad humor in the doctor’s eyes. “And next time they
will try harder. I’ll keep up the bluff as long as I can. The seventh
ingredient!” He chuckled grimly under his breath. “Like most humbugs,
it sounds well.”
Cole glanced expectantly toward the door. “A little while ago, out in
the other room, when you stepped between Carmody’s pistol and Miss
Brownell, did you expect the professor would shoot?”
“I didn’t know what to expect, to tell the truth.”
“Well, I knew he wouldn’t,” said Cole emphatically. “While we are
waiting, you might try to figure out the reason why. When you find it,
file it away in your mind for future reference. It may come in handy.
We must stop this whispering. We are making Miss Brownell nervous.”
A slight sound was heard in the corridor. The two armed guards stood
aside, and then the door opened. A moment later, smiling thinly as he
saw his suspicions confirmed, Cole faced the leader of the alchemists.
“Good evening, Mr. Englebreth,” he said easily.
An attendant pushed the invalid’s wheel chair up to the desk.
Englebreth, his disproportionately broad shoulders slightly hunched,
looked about the room with a rather listless expression. He was as
white-faced as ever, and his pale, washed-out eyes showed little
animation, but a faintly sinister smile played about the long, thin
lips. In his hand was a pistol with which he toyed with apparent
carelessness.
He nodded at Cole, then, with a quick motion of his long, slim fingers,
dismissed his attendant. The door closed, and the two armed guards
stood in front of it. For a while no one spoke. A hush seemed to have
descended over the little group with the invalid’s entrance. Latham
regarded him intently, but without a sign of surprise. For a moment
Englebreth’s pale eyes rested on Miss Brownell, then he glanced at the
doctor, and finally at Cole. His forehead puckered a little.
“You do not seem surprised to see me,” he remarked petulantly, as if
disappointed that his entrance had created no sensation.
“Why should I be?” Cole asked.
“Surely you didn’t suspect until now that I was connected with the
enterprise on foot here?”
“On the contrary,” said Cole, “your entrance has only confirmed the
suspicions that have been running in and out of my head for the past
two days. They began when I saw you enter the offices of the Bureau of
Civic Research. They received a setback when I learned that the letters
you left on the desk were genuine.”
Englebreth seemed mildly amused. “I am a public-spirited man,” he
declared. “The Bureau of Civic Research is one of the numerous
praiseworthy activities I am interested in. Being one of its honorary
vice presidents I have free access to its headquarters, of course. When
I learned, quite by accident, that a certain mysterious organization,
located on the top floor of the building, was resisting my plans, then
this privilege stood me in good stead. You might have guessed, Cole,
that I left those letters for a blind, just to show any casual visitor
that everything was open and aboveboard.”
“I might,” said Cole dryly.
“Yet you have proven yourself a very fair guesser, I must say. You are
a clever fellow, Cole. The Unknown Seven didn’t become really dangerous
to us until you took charge of its activities. Not that you have
accomplished anything,” he added with a dry chuckle. “We are too strong
even for you.”
Cole received the compliment with a shrug. A silence fell between them.
In the stillness the rhythmic humming of machinery was distinctly
heard. In Cole’s ears it sounded like a pæan of gold. He looked deep
into Englebreth’s pale eyes. There was a queer flicker in the depths,
an expression of insatiable greed to which the subterranean whir
and throw was but the audible accompaniment. He had seen the same
expression in Reeves’ burning orbs and also in the eyes of Carmody and
Ballinger. There was something abysmal about it. It suggested one who,
having gazed too long on visions of great wealth, had become enslaved
to a fearful obsession.
“Yes, you are very clever,” Englebreth went on. “It did not occur to me
that any one might suspect what the safe contained, but evidently you
did. You followed the yacht, of course. It was a very ingenious move,
Cole. Without doing so you would never have located our establishment
here. Now that you are here what do you propose to do?”
Cole only smiled. Again he looked deep into Englebreth’s eyes and saw
the smoldering fires of the fever of gold.
“My wife is an admirer of yours, Cole,” the invalid went on. “When her
brother disappeared she insisted that I engage you to find him. Of
course I couldn’t very well refuse. It would have looked suspicious,
and, besides, I supposed you were harmless. When I saw that you were
about to learn too much, through your connection with me, I succeeded
in persuading my wife that you were not worthy of confidence, that it
was best to dismiss you. Again I ask you what you intend to do.”
The words sounded like a taunt. Again Cole slanted a glance at the
telephone. The instrument tantalized him. He noticed that the green
cord attached to its base was of generous length. His mind worked
quickly, but the sight of the three automatics baffled him. A sudden
move would mean instant death, not only for himself, but for his two
companions as well.
“You seem irresolute,” Englebreth observed. “And no wonder, Cole. For
once in your life, you are absolutely helpless. You have been entirely
too meddlesome, and people who meddle in others’ affairs usually get
into trouble. Listen!”
Cole listened. A faint smile played about Englebreth’s lips as the
whirring of machinery sounded clearly in the surrounding silence.
“Know what it means, Cole. It means gold! Gold!” His lips seemed to
caress the word. “Millions and millions and millions, Cole. After you
are gone we shall be turning out gold in unlimited quantities. I and my
associates shall be the richest men in the world. And you, poor worm,
who thought you could stop us, will be reduced to a few grains of dust.”
“Sure of that?” demanded Cole.
His tone, clear and confident, seemed to impress the invalid.
“Why do you ask? Surely you don’t expect to escape from your present
predicament. As it happens, all the members of my organization are here
to-night. A touch of my finger will summon twenty men to my assistance,
if necessary.”
He scanned Cole’s face for a sign of fear, but none came. The other’s
coolness seemed to nettle him.
“So the gang is all here,” said Cole carelessly. “That means, of
course, that Doctor Ballinger is included?”
“Naturally. An excellent man, Ballinger. He has a practical mind, and
he knows on which side his bread is buttered. Why do you ask?”
“I am glad he is here,” said Cole. “I wouldn’t want him to get away
from me, you know.”
The invalid leaned out of the chair and stared. “Get away?” he echoed.
“What do you mean?”