Newspaper Page Text
The Secret Adversary
MR. HERSHEIMMER
SYNOPSlS—Realizing that she
has a possible chance of being
saved, as the Lusitania is sinking,
a stranger gives a young American
girl a package which he asks her
to deliver to the American ambas
sador in England. She is saved.
In London, former Lieut. “Tom
my” Beresford and Miss Prudence
Cowley “Tuppence" discharged
army nurse, form an organization.
“The Young Adventurers, Ltd.”
They are both broke and conse
quently ready for unorthodox
methods. They write out an ad
vertisement. Tuppence makes a
business appointment with a man,
Edward Whittington, who offers
her easy employment, but on giv
ing her name as "Jane Finn,’’
which she had heard on the street,
Whittington shows agitation and
Tuppence is told to return next
day. In the morning the girl finds
Whittington’s office deserted. In
answer to an advertisement signed
“Jane Finn” the two receive notes
from "Mr. Career” and "Julius P.
Hersheimmer.” Carter is really a
high government official. He speaks
of a mysterious “Mr. Brown” as
head of the Bolsheviki in Eng
land, and engages the pair to at
tempt to find Jane Finn, whom he
is seeking for important reasons
of state.
CHAPTER 111
Mr. Julius P. Hersheimmer.
Tommy indulged In a chuckle.
“My word! I don’t wonder Whit
tington got the wind up when Tup
pence plumped out that name! I
should have myself. But look here,
sir, we’re taking up an awful lot of
your time. Have you any tips to give
us before we clear out?”
“I think not. I have information
that the big coup was planned for
early in the new year. But the gov
ernment is contemplating legislative
action which will deal effectually with
the strike menace. They’ll get wind
of It soon, if they haven’t already, and
it's possible that that may bring things
to a head. I hope it will, myself."
Tuppence rose.
“I, think we ought to be business
like.' What exactly can we count upon
you for, Mr. Carter?”
Mr. Carter’s lips twitched slightly,
but he replied succinctly:
“Funds within reason, detailed In
formation on any point, and no offi
cial recognition. I mean that If you
get yourselves into trouble with the
police, I can’t officially help you out
of it. You’re on your own."
Tuppence nodded sagely. “I’m sure
I don’t want to be rude about the gov
ernment If you’ve got anything to do
with it, but you know one really has
the devil of a time getting anything
out of It! And If we have to fill up a
blue form and send it in, and then,
after three months, they send us a
green one, and so on —well, that won’t
be much use, will it?"
Mr. Carter laughed outright.
“Don’t worry, Miss Tuppence. You
will send a personal demand to me
here, and the money, in notes, shall
be sent by return of post. As to sal
ary, shall we say at the rate of three
hundred a year? And an equal sura
for Mr. Beresford, of course. Good--
by, and good luck to you both."
He shook hands with them, and in
another minute they were descending
the steps of 27 Carshalton terrace
with their heads in a whirl.
“Tommy! Tell me at once, who Is
"Mr. Carter’?”
Tommy murmured a name in her
ear.
“Oh!” said Tuppence, Impressed.
“And I can tell you, old bean, he’s
IT!"
“Oil!" said Tuppence again. Then
she added reflectively: “I like hhn,
don’t you? He looks so awfully tired
and bored, and yet you feel that un
derneath he’s just like steel, all keen
and flashing. Oh!” She gave a skip.
“Pinch me, Tommy, do pinch me. I
can’t believe it’s real!”
Mr. Beresford obliged.
‘Ow! That’s enough! Yes, we’re
not dreaming: We’ve got a Job!”
“And what a Job! The Joint ven
ture has really begun. Let’s have
lunch—«oh!”
The same thought sprang to the
minds of each. Tommy voiced it first.
“Julius P. Hersheimmer!’’
“JVe never told Mr. Carter about
bearing from him.”
“Well, there wasn’t much to tell—
not till we’ve seen him. Come on.”
On inquiring for Mr. Hersheimmer,
they were at once taken up to his
suite. An ImpaUent voice cried “Come
in” in answer to the page-boy’s knock,
and the lad stood aside to let them
pass In.
Mr. Julius P. Hersheimmer was a
good deal younger than either Tommy
By AGATHA CHRISTIE
(Copyright Dodd. Mead & Company)
or Tuppence had pictured him. The
girl put him down as thirty-five. lie
was of middle height, and squarely
built to match his jaw. His face was
pugnacious hut pleasant. No one
could have mistaken him for anything
but an American, though he spoke
with very little accent.
“Get my note? Sit down and tell
me right away all you know about my
cousin.”
‘Wour cousin?”
“Sure thing. Jane Finn.”
“Is she your cousin?”
“My father and her mother were
brother and sister,” explained Mr.
Hersheimmer meticulously.
“Oh !” cried Tuppence. “Then you
know where she is?”
“No!” Mr. Hersheimmer brought
down his fist with a bang on the table.
“I’m darned If I do! ‘Don’t you?”
“We advertised to receive informa
tion, not to give it,” said Tuppence
severely.
But Mr. Hersheimmer seemed to
grow suddenly suspicious.
“See here,” he declared. “This Isn’t
Sicily! No demanding ransom or
threatening to crop her ears if I re
fuse. These are the British isles, so
quit the funny business, or I’ll just
sing out for that beautiful big British
policeman I see out there in Picca
dilly.”
Tommy hastened to explain.
“We haven’t kidnaped your cousin.
On the contrary, we’re trying to find
her. We’re employed to do so.”
Mr. Hersheimmer leant back in his
chair.
“Put me wise,” he said succinctly.
Tommy fell In with this demand in
so far as he gave him a guarded ver
sion of the disappearance of Jane
Finn, and of the possibility of her
having been mixed up unawares in
“some political show.” He alluded to
Tuppence and himself as “private In
quiry agents” commissioned to find
her, and added that they would there
fore be glad of any details Mr. Hers
heimmer could give them.
That gentleman nodded approval.
“I guess that’s all right. I was
just a mite hasty. Just trot out your
questions and I’ll answer.”
For the moment this paralyzed the
Young Adventurers, but Tuppence, re
covering herself, plunged boldly Into
the breach with a reminiscence culled
from detective fiction.
“When did you last see the dece —
your cousin, I mean?”
“Never seen her,” responded Mr.
Hersheimmer.
“What?” demanded Tommy, aston
ished.
“No, sir. As I said before, my fa
ther and her mother were brother and
sister, just as you might be” —Tommy
did not correct this view of their re
lationship—“but they didn’t always
get on together. And when my aunt
made up her mind to marry Amos
Finn, who was a poor schoolteacher
out west, my father was just mad;
Said If he made his pile, as he seemed
in a fair Tray to do, she’d never see
a cent of It. Well, the upshot was
that Aunt Jane went out west and we
never heard from her again.
“The old man did pile it up. He
went into oil, and lie went Into steel,
and he played a hit with railroads,
and I can tell you he made Wall Street
sit up!” He paused. “Then he died
—last fall —and I got the dollars.
Well, would you believe It, my con
science got busy! Kept knocking me
up and saying: What about your
Aunt Jane, way out west? It wor
ried me some. You see, I figured it
out that Amos Finn would never make
good. He wasn’t .hat sort. End of it
was, I hired a man to hunt her down.
Result, she was dead, and Amos Finn
was dead, but they’d left a daughter—
Jane —who’d been torpedoed In the
Lusitania on her way to Paris. She
was saved all right, but they didn’t
seem able to hear of her over this
side, I guessed they weren’t hustling
any, so I thought I’d come along over,
and speed things up. I phoned Scot
land Yard and the Admiralty first
thing. The Admiralty rather choked
me off, but Scotland Yard were very
civil —said they would make Inquiries,
even sent a man round this morning
to get her photograph. I'm off to Paris
tomorrow, just to see what the Pre
fecture Is doing. I guess If I go to
and fro hustling them, they ought to
get busy!”
The energy of Mr. Hersheimmer
was tremendous. They bowed be
fore It.
“But say, now,” he ended, “you’re
not after her for anything? Contempt
of court, or something British? A
proud-spirited young American girl
might find your rules and regulations
in war time rather irksome, and get
HENRY COUNTY WEEKLY. McDONOL GH, GEORGIA.
up against it. If that’s the case, and
there’s such a tiling ns graft in this
country, I’ll buy her off.”
Tuppence reassured him.
“That’s good. Then we can work
together. What about some lunch?”
Oysters had just given place to Sole
Colbert when a card was brought to
Hersheimmer.
“Inspector Japp, C. I. D. Scotland
Yard again. Another man this time.
What does lie expect I can tell him
that I didn’t tell the first chap? I
hope they haven’t lost that photo
graph. That western photographer’s
place was burned down and all his
negatives destroyed—this is the only
copy in existence. I got it from the
principal of the college there.”
An unformulated dread swept over
Tuppence.
“You—you don’t know the name of
the man who came this morning?”
“Yes, I do. No, I don’t. Hnlf a
second. It was on lih card. Oh, I
know! Inspector Brown. Quiet, un
assuming sort of chap.”
A veil might with profit be drawn
over the events of the next half-hour.
Suffice it to say tlint no such person
as "Inspector Brown” was known to
Scotland Yard. The p v otogrnph of
Jane Finn, which would have been of
the utmost value to the police In
tracing her, was lost beyond recovery.
Once again “Mr. Brown" had tri
umphed.
The immediate result of this set
back was to effect a rnpprochement
between Julius Hersheimmer and the
Young Adventurers. All barriers
went down with a crash, nnd Tommy
and Tuppence felt they had known
the young American nil their lives.
They abandoned the discreet reticence
of “private inquiry agents,” and re
vealed to him the whole history of the
joint venture, whereat the young man
declared himself “tickled to death.”
He turned to Tuppence at the close
of the narration.
“I’ve always had a kind of idea that
English girls were just a mite moss
grown. and sweet, you
know, but scared to move around
without u footman or a maiden aunt.
I guess I’m a bit behind the times!”
The upshot of these confidential re
lations was that Tommy and Tuppence
took up their abode forthwith at the
Ilitz, In order, as Tuppence put It, to
keep in touch with Jane Finn’s only
living relation. “And put like thnt,”
she added confidentially to Tommy,
“nobody could boggle at the expense!”
Nobody did, which was the great
thing.
“And now,” said the young lady on
the morning after their installation,
“to work! We should map out a plan
of campaign.”
“Hear, hear!”
“Well, let’s do It. To begin with,
what have we to «to upon?”
“Absolutely nothing,” said Tommy
cheerily.
“Wrong!" Tuppence wagged an
energetic finger. “We have two dis
tinct clues."
“What are they?”
“First clue, we know cne of the
gang.”
“Whittington?”
“Yes. I’d recognize him anywhere.”
“Hum,” said Tommy doubtfully, “I
don’t call that much of a clue. You
don’t know where to look for him, and
it’s about a thousand to one against
your running against him by acci
dent.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” re
plied Tuppence thoughtfully. There
are places in London where simply
everyone Is bound to turn up sooner
or later. Piccadilly circus, for in
stance. One of my ideas was to take
up my stand there every day."
“Honestly, I don’t think much of
the idea. Whittington mayn’t be In
London at all.”
“That’s true. Anyway, I think
clue No. 2 Is more promising.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“It’s nothing much. Only a Chris
tian name —Rita. Whittington men
tioned it that day.”
“Are you proposing a third adver
tisement: Wanted, female crook, an
swering to the name of Rita?”
“I am not. I propose to reason In
a logical manner. Tiiat man. Danvers,
was shadowed on the way over, wasn’t
he? And It’s more likely to have been
a woman than a man—”
“I don’t see that at : II.”
“I am f absolutely certain that It
would be a woman, and a good-looking
one,” replied Tuppence calmly. “Now,
obviously, this woman, whoever she
was, was saved.”
“How do you make that out?”
“If she wasn’t, how would they
have known Jaivt Fisa had got the
papers?”
"Correct."
“Now, there's Just a chance, I admit
- r ).. - i it.; _ _
XI 3 v* vuuuvc, uuu IULS \\ OLUUII
may have been ‘Rita.’ ’’
“And if so?”
“If so, we’ve got to hunt through
the survivors of the Lusltnnia till
we find her."
“Then the first thing Is to get a list
of the survivors.”
“I’ve got It. I wrote a long list of
tilings I wanted to know, and sent it
to Mr. Carter. I got his reply this
morning, and among other things It
incloses the official statement of those
saved from the Lusitania.”
“But the great point is, is there a
‘Rita’ on the list?”
“That’s just what I don’t know,"
confessed Tuppence. “You see, very
few Christian names are given. They’re
nearly all Mrs. or Miss.”
Tommy nodded. "That complicates
matters,” he murmured thoughtfully.
“Well, we’ve just got to get down to
it. that’s all. We’ll start with the Lon
don area. Just note down the ad
dresses of any of the females who
live in London or roundabout, while I
put on my hat."
Five minutes Inter the young
couple emerged Into Piccadilly, and a
few seconds later a taxi was bearing
them to The Laurels, Glendower road,
N. 7, the residence of Mrs. Edgar
Keith, whose name figured first in a
list of seven reposing In Tommy’s
pocketbook.
The Laurels was a dilapidated
house, standing back from the road
with a few grimy burkes to support
the fiction of a front garden. Tommy
paid off the taxi, and accompanied
Tuppence to the front doorbell. He
pressed the bell. Tuppence withdrew
to a suitable spot.
A slatternly-looking servant, with
an extremely dirty face nnd a pair
of eyes that did not match, answered
the door.
“Good morning," he said briskly nnd
cheerfully. “From the Hampstead
borough council. The new Voting
Register. Mrs. Edgar Keith lives here,
does she not?”
“Yans,” said the servant.
“Christian name?” asked Tommy,
his pencil poised.
“Missus’? Eleanor Jane."
“Eleanor,” spelt Tommy. “Any
sons or daughters over twenty-one?"
“Naow.”
“Thank you.” Tommy closed the
notebook with a brisk snap. “Good
morning.”
“Good wheeze, wasn’t It? And we
can repeat it ad lib. Where’s the next
draw?”
“Mrs. Ynndemeyer, 20 South Aud
ley mansions. Miss Wheeler. 43
Claplngton road, Battersea. She’s a
lady’s maid, as far as I remember, so
probably won’t be there, nnd, anyway,
she’s not likely.”
“Then the Mayfair lady Is clearly
Indicated ns the first port of call.”
South Audley mansions was an Im
posing-looking block o* fiats Just off
Park Inne. No. 20 was on the second
floor.
Tommy had by this time the gllh
ness born of practice. He rattled off
the formula to the elderly woman,
looking more like a housekeeper than
a servant, who opened the door to
him.
“Christian name?”
“Margaret.”
Tommy spelt It, but the other Inter
rupted him.
“No, g u e.”
“Oh, Marguerite; French wn.v, I
see.” He paused, then plunged boldly.
“We had her down ns Rita Vande
raeyer, but I suppose that’s Incorrect?”
“She’s mostly called that, sir, but
Marguerite’s her name.”
"Thank you. That’s nil. Good
morning."
Hardly able to contain his excite
ment, Tommy hurried down the stairs.
Tuppence was waiting at the angle
of the turn.
“You heard?”
“Yes. Oh, Tommy!"
Her hand was still In Tommy’s.
They had reached the entrance hall.
There were footsteps on the stairs
above them, and voices.
Suddenly, to Tommy’s complete sur
prise, Tuppence dragged him into the
little space by the side of the lift,
where the shadow was deepest
“What the—”
“Hush I”
Two men came down the stairs and
passed out through the entrance. Tup
pence’s hand closed tighter on Tom
my’s arm.
“Quick —follow them. I daren’t. He
might recognize me. I don’t know
who the other man Is, but the bigger
of the two was Whittington.”
“Who knows? You may have
met Mr. Brown already."
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
His Fault for Stopping.
Hub (during spat)—lt’s always the
same; you must have the last word.
Wife —Well, how am I to know when
you’re not going to say something
more?
A St. Louis woman has kept a diary
for 36 years. Not a day has been
missed.
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What He Was Seeking.
“What sort of a neighborhood is
this?”
“Excellent. Some of the best peo
ple in town live in this section.”
“That may be, but .what I want tq
know is can they afford to have more
tlwin we can afford? I’m tired of
keeping up with other people. I want
to try living in a place where I shall
set the pace for awhile.”
Willing.
It takes more to shock a girl nowa
days than it used to,” remarked Pro
fessor Pate.
“Yes,” replied Hostetter Smith. “But
have you noticed any disinclination on
the part of a man to provide her with
sufficient cause to produce that re
sult?” —Kansas City Star.
If coffee
disagrees
drinks
Postum
Silt!