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About The Henry County weekly. (McDonough, GA.) 18??-1934 | View Entire Issue (Aug. 24, 1923)
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.) 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