Newspaper Page Text
The Secret
Adversary
~i ’w r
By
AGATHA
CHRISTIE
(Copyright Dodd, Mead & Company)
CHAPTER X—Continued.
—ls—
then, louder still, the words
floated down to him:
“This is a terrible house. I want to
go back to Marguerite. To Marguerite.
To Marguerite!”
Tommy hud run back to the stairs.
She wanted him to go and leave her.
But why? At all costs he must try
and get her away with him. Then his
heart sank. Conrad was leaping down
the stairs, uttering a savage cry at the
sight of him. After him came the
others.
Tommy stopped Conrad’s rush with a
straight blow with his fist. It caught
the other on the point of the jaw and
he fell like a lcj. The second man
tripped over his body and fell. From
higher up the staircase there was a
flash, and a bullet grazed Tommy’s
oar. He realized that it would be
good for his health to get out of this
house as soon as possible. As regards
Anne.te he could do nothing.
He leapt for the door, slnmming it
behind him. The square was de
serted. In front of the house was a
baker’s van. Evidently he was to
have been taken out of London in
that, and his body found many miles
from the house in Soho. The driver
jumped to the pavement and tried to
bar Tommy’s way. Again Tommy’s
fist shot out, and the driver sprawled
on the pavement.
Tommy took to his heels and ran —
none too soon. The front door opened
and a hail of bullets followed him.
Fortunately none of them hit him. He
turned the corner of the square.
“There’s one thing,” he thought to
himself, “they can’t go on shooting.
They’ll have the police after them if
they do.”
He heard the footsteps of his pur
suers behind him, and redoubled his
own pace. Once he got out of these
by-ways he would be safe. In another
moment he had reason to bless his
luck. He stumbled over a prostrate
figure, which started up with a yell of
alarm and dashed off down the street.
Tommy drew back into a doorway.
In a minute he had the pleasure of
seeing his two pursuers, of whom the
German was one, industriously track
ing down the red herring!
Tommy sat down quietly on the
doorstep and allowed a few moments
to elapse while he recovered his
breath. Then he strolled gently in the
opposite direction. He glanced at his
watch. It was a little after half-past
five. It was rapidly growing light.
He betook himself to a Turkish bath
establishment which he knew to be
open all night. He emerged into the
busy daylight feeling himself ouce
more, and able to make plans.
First of all, he must have a square
meal. He had eaten nothing since
midday yesterday. He turned into a
shop and ordered eggs and bacon and
coffee. Whilst he ate, he read a morn
ing paper propped up in front of him.
Suddenly he stiffened. There was a
long article on Ivramenin, who was de
scribed as the “man behind Bol
shevism” In Russia, and who had Just
arrived in London —some thought as
an unofficial envoy.
In the center of the page was his
portrait.
“So that’s who Number 1 is,” said
Tommy. “Not a doubt about it; I
must push on.”
He paid for his breakfast, and be
took himself to Whitehall. There he
sent up his name, and the message
that it was urgent. A few minutes
later he was in the presence of the
man who did not here go by the name
of “Mr. Carter.”
And as briefly and succinctly as
possible he detailed the experiences of
the last few days.
Half-way through, Mr. Carter inter
rupted him to give a few cryptic or
ders through the telephone. All traces
of displeasure had now left his face.
He nodded energetically when Tommy
had finished.
“Quite right. Every moment’s cj
value. Fear we shall be too late any
way. They wouldn’t wait. Would
clear out at once. Still, they may
have left something behind them that
will be a clue. You say you’ve recog
nized Number 1 to be Kramenin?
That’s important. He handed a photo
graph to Tommy, and smiled at the
other's exclamation. “I’m right, then.
Who is he? Irishman. Prominent
Unionist M.P. All a blind, of course.
We’ve suspected it —but couldn’t get
any proof. Yes. you’ve done very
well, young mnn. The 29th, you say,
is the date. That gives us very little
time —very little time Indeed.”
“But—” Tommy hesitated.
Mr. Carter read his thoughts.
“We can deal with the general
strike menace, I think. It’s a toss
up—but we’ve got a sporting chnnee!
But if that draft treaty turns up—
we’re done. England will be plunged In
anarchy. Ah, what’s that? The car?
Come on, Beresford, we’ll go and have
a look at this house of yours.”
Two constables were on duty In
front of the house in Soho. An In
spector reported to Mr. Carter in a
low voice. The latter turned to
Tommy.
“The birds have flown —ns we
thought. We might as weli go over
It.”
Going over the deserted house
seeded to Tommy to partake of the
character of a dream. Evervthing
was Just as it had been. The prison
room with the crooked pictures, the
broken jug in the attic, the meeting
room with its long table, but nowhere
was there a trace of papers. Every
thing of that kind had either been
destroyed or taken away. And there
was no sign of Annette.
“What you tell me about the girl
puzzles me,” said Mr. Carter. “You
believe that she deliberately went
back?”
“It would seem so, sir. She ran
upstairs while I was getting the door
open."
“Il’m, she must belong to the gang,
then; but, being a woman, didn’t feel
like standing by to see a personable
young man killed. But evidently she’s
in with them, or she wouldn’t have
gone back.”
“I can't believe she's really one of
them, sir. She —seemed so differ
ent —’’
“Good-looking, I suppose?” said Mr.
Carter with a smile that made Tommy
flush to the roots of his hair. He
admitted Annette’s beauty rather
shamefacedly.
“By the way,” observed Mr. Carter,
“have you shown yourself to Miss
Tuppence yet? She’s been bombarding
me with letters about you.”
“Tuppence? I was afraid she might
get a bit rattled. Did she go to the
police?”
Mr. Carter shook his head.
“Then I wonder how they twigged
me.”
Mr. Carter looked inquiringly at
him, and Tommy explained. The
other nodded thoughtfully.
“True, that’s rather a curious point.
Unless the mention of the Ritz was
an accidental remark?”
“It might have been, sir. But they
must have found out about me sud
denly in some way.”
“Well,” said Mr. Carter, looking
round him, “there’s nothing more to
be done here. Good-by. Remember
you’re a marked man now, and take
reasonable care of yourself.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Hailing a taxi briskly Tommy
stepped in, and was swiftly borne to
the Ritz, dwelling the while on the
pleasurable anticipation of startling
Tuppence, but his enthusiasm received
a check. He was informed that Miss
Cowley had gone out a quarter of an
hour ago.
CHAPTER XI
The Telegram.
Baffled for the moment, Tommy
strolled Into the restaurant, and
ordered a atal cf surpassing excel
lence. His four days’ imprisonment
had taught him anew to value good
food.
fie was In the middle of conveying
a particularly choice morsel to his
mouth, when he caught sight of Julius
entering the room. At the sight of
Tommy, Julius’ eyes seemed as though
they would pop out of his head.
“Holy snakes!” he ejaculated. “Is
it really you? Say, man, don’t you
know you’ve been given up for dead?
I guess we’d have had a solemn
requiem for you in another few days.”
“Who thought I was dead?” de
manded Tommy.
“Tuppence.”
“Where Is Tuppence?"
“Isn’t she here?”
“No, the fellows at the office said
she’d just gone out.”
“Gone shopping, I guess. But, say,
can’t you shed that British calm of
yours, and get down to it? What on
God’s earth have you been doing all
this time?”
“If you’re feeding here,” replied
Tommy, “order now. It’s going to be
a long story.”
Julius drew up a chair to the oppo
site side of the table, summoned a
hovering waiter, and dictated his
wishes. Then he turned to Tommy.
“Fire ahead. I guess you’ve had
some few adventures."
“One or two," replied Tommy mod
estly, and plunged into his recital.
Julius listened spell-bound. At the
end he heaved a long sigh.
“Bully for you. Reads like a dime
novel?”
He, in his turn, assumed the role
of narrator. Beginning with his un
successful reconnoitering at Bourne
mouth, he passed on to his return to
London, the buying of the car, the
HENRY COUNTY WEEKLY, McDONOUGH, GEORGIA
growing anxieties of Tuppence, the
call upon Sir James, and the sensa
tional occurrences of the previous
night.
“But who killed her?” a:ked
Tommy. “I don't quite understand.”
“The doctor kidded himself she took
It herself,” replied Julius dryly.
“And Sir James? What did he
think?”
“Being a legal luminary, he Is like
wise a human oyster,” replied Julius.
“I should say he ‘reserved judg
ment.’ ” He went on to detail the
events of the morning.
“Lost her memory, eh?” said Tommy
with interest. “By Jove, that explains
why they looked at me so queerly
when I spoke of questioning her. Bit
of a slip on my part, that I But It
wasn’t the sort of thing a lellow
would be likely to guess.”
There was u moment’s pause, nnd
then Tommy reverted to Mrs. Vande
me.ver’s death.
“There’s no doubt It was chloral?
Let’s go round to the scene of the
crime. I wish we could get hold of
Tuppence. The Ritz would enjoy the
spectacle of the glad reunion.”
Inquiry at the office revealed the
fact that Tuppence hud not yet re
turned.
“All the same, I guess I’ll have a
look round upstairs,” said Julius.
“She might be in my sitting-room.”
He disappeared.
Suddenly a diminutive boy spoke at
Tommy’s elbow:
“The young lady—she’s gone away
by train, I think, sir,” he murmured
shyly.
“What?” Tommy wheeled round
upon him.
“The taxi, sir. I heard her tell the
driver Charing Cross and to look
sharp."
Tommy stared at him, his eyes
opening wide in surprise. Emboldened,
the small boy proceeded. "So I
thought, having asked for an A.B.C.
and a Bradshaw —”
Tommy interrupted him:
“When did she ask for an A. 8.0.
and a Bradshaw?"
“When I took her the telegram, sir."
“A telegram?”
“Yes, sir.”
“When was that?”
“About half-past twelve, sir."
At that moment Julius came back.
He held an open letter in his hand.
“I say, Hersheimmer” Tommy
turned to him —“Tuppence has gone
off sleuthing on her own.”
“Shucks!’’
“Yes, she has. She went off In a
taxi to Charing Cross In the deuce of
a hurry after getting a telegram.” His
eye fell on the letter In Julius’ hand.
“Oh; she left a note for you. That’s
all right. Where’s she off to?”
Almost unconsciously, he held out
his hand for the letter, but Julius
folded it up and placed it in his pocket.
He seemed a trifle embarrassed.
“I guess this Is nothing to do with
it. It’s about something else —some-
thing I asked her that she was to let
me know about. See here, I’d better
put you wise. I asked Miss Tuppence
to marry me this morning.”
“Oh!” said Tommy mechanically.
He felt dazed. Julius’ words were
totally unexpected. For the moment
they benumbed his brain.
“I’d like to tell you," continued
Julius, “that before I suggested any
thing of the kind to Miss Tuppence, I
made it clear that I didn’t want to
butt in in any way between her and
you—”
Tommy roused himself.
“That s all right,” he said quickly.
“Vimneneo nnd I have been pals for
years. Nothing more.” He lit a cig
arette with a hand that shook ever so
little. “That’s quite all right. Tup
pence always said that she wus look
ing out for —”
He stopped abruptly, his face crim
soning, but Julius was in no way dis
composed.
“Oh, I guess It’ll be the dollars
that’ll do the trick. Miss Tuppence
put me wise to that right away. There’s
no humbug about her. We ought to
gee along together very well."
Tommy looked at him curiously for
a minute, as though he were about to
speak, then changed his mind and said
nothing. Tuppence and Julius ! Well,
why not? Had she not lamented the
fact that she knew no rich men? Had
she not openly avowed her intention
of marrying for money if she ever had
the chance? Why blame her because
she had been true to her creed?
Nevertheless, Tommy did blame her.
He was filled with a passionate and
utterly illogical resentment. Tuppence
was utterly cold-blooded and selfish,
and he would be delighted If he never
saw her again 1 And it was a rotten
w orld!
Julius’ voice broke in on these medi
tations.
“Yes, we ought to gee along to
gether very well. I’ve heard that a
girl always refuses you once —a sort
of convention.”
Tommy caught his arm.
“Refuse? Did you say refuse?”
“Sure thing. Didn’t I tell you that?
She just rapped out a ‘no’ without any
kind of reason to it. But she’ll come
round right enough. Likely enough. 1
hustled her some—”
But Tommy interrupted regardless
of decorum.
“What did she say In that noT-./T 8 he
demanded fiercely.
- ..e obliging Julius handed It to Lta.
The note, In Tuppence’s well-kncun
schoolboy writing, ran ns follows:
“Dear Julius:
“It’s always better to have tiling* in
black nnd white. I don’t feel I cua
be bothered to think of marriage until
Tommy is found. Let’s leave It till
then.
“Yours nilcctlonntelv,
“TUPPENCE.”
Tommy nnndea It back, his eyes
shining. Ills feelings had undergone
a sharp reaction. He now felt that
Tuppence was all that was noble and
disinterested. Hud sho not refused
Julius without hesitation? True, the
note betokened signs of weakening,
but he could excuse that. It rend al
most like a bribe to Julius to spur him
on in his efforts to find Tommy, but
lie supposed she had not renlly meant
It that way. Darling Tuppence, there
was not a girl in the world to touch
her I When he saw her —Ills thoughts
were brought up with n sudden jerk.
“As you say,” ho remarked, pulling
himself together, “there's not a hint
here ns to what she’s up to. Ill —
Henry!’’
The small boy came obediently.
“One tiling more. Do you remember
whnt the young lady did with the
tel eg rnm ?’
Henry gnsped nnd spoke.
“She crumpled it up into a ball nnd
threw It Into the grate, nnd made a
sort of noise like ‘Whoop!’ sir."
They hurried upstairs. Tuppence
had left the key in her door. The
room was as she had left it. In the
fireplace was a crumpled ball of
orange nnd white. Tommy disentan
gled nnd smoothed out the telegram.
“Come at once, Moat House, Ebury,
Yorkshire, great developments
TOMMY.”
They looked nt each other In stupe
faction. Julius spoke first:
“I guess It means the worst They’ve
got her.”
"What?"
“Sure thing! They signed your
name, nnd she fell into the trup like
a lamb.”
“My G —d! Whnt shall we do?”
“Get busy, nnd go after her! Right
now 1 There’s no time to waste. It’s
almighty luck that she didn’t take the
wire with her. If she had we'd prob
ably never have traced her. But we’ve
got to hustle. Where’s that Brad
shaw?’’
The energy of Julius was Infectious.
Left to himself, Tommy would probab
ly have sat down to think things out
for a good half hour before he decided
on a plan of action. But with Julius
Hersheimmer about, hustling was In
evitable.
“Here we are. Ebury, Yorks. From
King’s Cross. Or St. Pancras. (Boy
must have made a mistake. It was
King’s Cross, not Charing Cross) 12:50,
that’s the train she went by. 2:10,
that’s gone. 3:20 Is the next.”
“I say, Julius, what do they want
her for, anyway?"
“Eh? I don’t get you?”
“What I mean Is that I don’t think
it’s their game to do her any harm,”
explained Tommy, puckering his brow
with the strain of his mental proc
esses. “She’s a hostage, that’s what
she Is. As long as they’ve got her,
they’ve got the whip hand on us. See?”
“Sure thing," said Julius thought
fully. “That’s so.”
“Besides,” added Tommy, as an af
terthought, ‘‘l’ve great faith In Tup
pence.”
The journey was wearisome, with
many stops, and crowded carriages.
Eoury «us a deserted station with a
solitary porter, to whom Tommy ad
dressed himself:
“Can you tell me the way to the
Mont house?”
“The Moat house? It’s a tidy step
from here. The big house near the
sea, you mean?”
Tommy assented brazenly. After
listening to the porter’s meticulous but
perplexing directions, they prepared to
leave the station. It was beginning to
lain, and they turned up the collars of
their coats as they trudged through the
slush of the road. Suddenly Tommy
baited.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Indian Mode of Travel.
Throughout early history the Indian
Is characterized by his mode of travel.
Explorers who first pushed up the
great rivers found the Indian navigat
ing the water with his canoe. In the
northern part the canoes were of birch
bark, and of elm bark farther south.
The typical boat as shown Is the dug
out wooden canoe, shaped from a
single large log, an excellent example
of which was found in the river and
mud near Hackensack, N. J. Travel
over land required the u~e of the bur
den basket. A specimen of this was
collected from the remnant of the
Mashpee Indians, still living in Massa
chusetts. The baskets were carried on
the back by means of a pack strap
across the forehead or chest.
Keep an Open Mind.
The human mind should be like a
good hotel —open the year round. —
William Lyon I’helps.
Three In a game of love make* it
more interesting than satisfactory.
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Hastened by
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Mr. C. A. Allen, R. R. No. 2,
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The latter part of the winter, I
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My usual winter weight is 155.
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Insist upon having the old and
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Of the whole enrollment of students
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