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SYNOPSIS.
At the expense of a soiled hat Robert
Orme saves from arrest a girl In a black
touring car who has caused a traffic jam
on State street. He buys a new hat and
is given in change a five dollar bill with:
"Remember the person you pay this to,
•written on it. A second time he helps the
lady in the black car, and learns that in
Tom and Bessie Wallingham they have
mutual friends, but gains no further hint
of her identity. He discovers another in
scription on the marked bill, which, in a
futile attempt to decipher it. he copies
and places the copy in a drawer in his
apartment. Senor Poritol, South Ameri
can, calls, and claims the marked bi 11.
Orme refuses, and a fight ensues in
■which Poritol is overcome. He calls in
Senor Alcatrante, minister from his coun
try, to vouch for him. Orme still refuses
to give up the bill. Orme goes for a walk
and sees two Japs attack Alcatrante. He
rescues him. Returning to his rooms
Orme is attacked by two Japs who ef
fect a forcible exchange of the marked
bill for another. Orme finds the girl of
the black car waiting for him. She also
wants the bill. Orme tells his story. She
recognizes one of the Japs as her father’s
butler, Maku. The second inscription o.t
the bill is the key to the hiding place of
important papers stolen from her father.
Both Japs and South Americans want the
papers. Orme and the “Girl” start out in
the black car in quest of the papers. In
the university grounds in Evanston the
hiding place is located. Maku and an
other Jap are there. Orme fells Maku
and the other Jap escapes. Orme finds In
Maku's pocket a folded slip of paper. He
takes the girl, whose name is still un
known to him, to the home of a friend in
Evanston. Returning to the university
grounds Orme gets in conversation with a
guard at the life-saving station. They
hear a motor boat in trouble in the dark
ness on the lake. They find the crippled
boat. In it are the Jap with the papers
and "Girl.” She jumps into Orme’s boat,
but the Jap eludes pursuit. "Girl” ex
£ lains her presence in the boat. Orme
oards a car for the city and finds Maku
on it and trails him in hope of finding
the Jap who has the papers. Orme
finds on the paper he took from Maku
the address, "341 N. Parker street.”
He goes there and finds that Arima,
teacher of jiu-jitsu is on the third
floor. He calls on Alla, clairvoyant, on
the fourth floor, descends by the fire
escape and conceals himself under a
table in Arima's room. Alcatrante, Por
itol and the Jap minister enter. Orme
finds the papers In a drawer under the
table and substitutes mining prospect
uses for them. He learns that the pa
pers are of international importance
with a time limit for signatures of that
night midnight. The substitution is
discovered. The girl appears and
leaves again after being told that the
American has the papers. Orme at
tempts to get away, is discovered and
set upon by Arima and Maku. He
eludes them and is hidden in a closet
by the clairvoyant. Orme escapes c|ur-
Inga seance given by Alia. On the side
walk he encounters Alcatrante. Orme
goes to find Tom Wallingham. Alca
trante hangs on and tries to get the
papers.
CHAPTER Xlll.—Continued.
They passed a long series of doors,
the glass panels of which were in
scribed, “The Wallingham Company—
Private,” with index fingers pointing
the direction of the main entrance.
This was the Chicago branch of the
great New York corporation, and
Thomas Wallingham, Sr., had placed
his son in charge of it two years
before. The business was the manu
facture of refrigerators. One side of
the reception room which Orme en
tered hurriedly, Alcatrante still be
side him, was given over to a large
specimen refrigerator chamber, built
in with glistening white tiles. The
massive door, three feet thick, was
•wide open, showing the spotless inner
chamber. In the outer wall was a ther
mometer dial fully a foot in diameter.
Once inside the reception room
Orme stopped and looked again at Al
catrante. There was menace in the
look, but the South American did not
flinch. Indeed, the glance which met
his own seemed to Orme to be dis
armingly good natured. Its essence
was a humorous recognition that the
situation had a .ridiculous side.
But Orme, knowing that much was
at stake, did not for an instant trust
his unwelcome companion. Alca-
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The South Amarl»rtr Did Not Flinch.
trante would cling to him like an
Old Man of the Sea, awaiting the op
portunity to get the better of him.
Every wile would be employed; but
publicity was no part of the game—
Orme began really to believe that.
To shake off Alcatrante, perhaps
there was no better way than to lure
him to some deserted place and over
power him. But would not Alcatrante
be likely to have anticipated such a
move? And would he not resort to
desperate measures of his own before
Orme could put his own plans into
practise? Bixby might help.
Orme walked over to the inquiry
window. "I want to see Mr. Bixby,”
he said, offering his card.
The young woman behind the win
dow took the card, but at the same
time she said: "Mr. Bixby left a few
minutes ago. He won’t be back to
day. Shall I keep the card for him?”
“It doesn’t matter, thank you,” he
said, turning away. Luck was against
him. Besides Bixby no one in the of
fice knew him.
Alcatrante smiled genially. “Since
Mr. Bixby is absent,” he remarked,
"shall we leave the verification of the
notes until tomorrow?”
“What are you talking about?” ex
claimed Orme.
“Why—” Alcatrante's face was the
picture of astonishment —“the Walling
ham company notes, of course. The
notes you wish to sell me.” His voice
was raised so that the girl behind the
window could not help hearing.
“Rot!” said Orme.
“What?” A note of indignation crept
into Alcatrante's voice. "Are you
evading? Perhaps you thought I would
not insist on the verification.” An
other clerk, a man, had joined the girl,
behind the window. Alcatrante sud
denly addressed him. “This Mr. Orme
told me that he needed to raise money
and would transfer to me cheap some
notes signed by your company. I met
him at the hotel. He said that, if I
would come here with him, he would
show the notes and have them veri
fied. I don’t understand.”
The clerk left the window, and,
opening a door, came into the recep
tion room. “What are the notes you
have?” he asked.
"I have none,” replied Orme, in dis
gust. “I have never pretended to have
my. This man is crazy, I think.” He
pointed to Alcatrante! “He has fol
lowed me here uninvited for reasons df
his own. I asked for Mr. Bixby, whom
I know. I would have asked for Mr.
Wallingham, my personal friend, but
that I had already learned of his being
at Arradale.”
"There’s funny business here some
where,” exclaimed Alcatrante, with
great earnestness. "Do you mean to
say that you did not introduce your
self to me in the lobby of the Framing
ton and ask me to buy the notes?”
Orme did not answer.
With a conservative eye the clerk
looked at the two. He was not one to
involve himself in a dubious affair.
"I can’t settle this matter for you,
gentlemen,” he said.
With a slight bow, Orme went into
the hall. It dawned upon him why Al
catrante had invented so remarkable
a story. Without question, the min
ister had feared that Orme would en
list aid in the office, or that at least he
would manage to deposit the coveted
papers in safety while he found other
means to get rid of his shadow. Hence
the sudden effort to discredit Orme.
In the long corridor Orme gave no
further attention to Alcatrante, who
was pattering along beside him. The
course he now had in mind was to hire
a cab and ride out of the city—all the
way to Arradale, if possible. The dis
tance could not be much greater than
15 miles. If Alcat®inte chose to pur
sue, well and good. There would be
ways of disposing of him.
Then an audacious notion flashed
into Orme’s mind. Why not let Alca
trante ride with him? Why not take
the minister all the way to his destina
tion and at the end turn him over a
prisoner?
The idea was hardly practicable. He
might meet other enemies, and in that
event he would not care to have an
enemy already at his side. It came to
him for the first time that the nearer
he approached his goal, the greater
would be the opposition he would have
to overcome. Whatever else the South
Americans and Japanese might do,
they would have their guards about
the house of the girl’s father. Hith
erto he had assumed that, once free
of Alcatrante and safe on the train to
Arradale, he would'have plain going;
but now he realized that the dangers
would pile up higher as he advanced.
In any event, he mu^t get rid of Al
catrante, and as they approached the
elevator grills, he spoke.
“Senor,” he said, “unless you stop
following me, I shall be obliged to hurt
you. I give you fair warning.”
Alcatrante laughed. “If you hurt
me, as you threaten, you will find your
self in difficulties. You will be arrest
ed, and you will have no opportunity
to deliver the documents on time. My
position as minister— my extra-terri
toriality—will make it very difficult for
you to extricate yourself.”
Orme looked grimly down into the
sallow face. “My fist against your
chin,” he said, “might do it.”
Alcatrante did not lose his smile.
“You will hardly try that, I think.
There would be no time for you to get
away. People in these passing eleva
tors would see you.”
Orme turned away and pressed the
“down” button, and a few seconds
later a descending car stopped. He
pushed his way in, Alcatrante after
him.
The elevator was crowded. Clerks
and stenographers were beginning to
leave their offices, for the hour was
nearly five. Orme wedged his way in
at one side, and, in order to gain a
momentary sense of seclusion, turned
his back upon the persons who were
pressing against him and stood with
his face to the side of the cage, looking
through the scroll work of the grating
to the swiftly ascending cables in the
next well. He was conscious that Al
catrante stood close to him as the car
began to slip downward. It was all
very ridiculous, this persistent pursuit
of him.
Suddenly Alcatrante’s voice burst
out: “Stop the car! I’ve been robbed!
Stop the car!”
There was immediate commotion; a
girl screamed, and the swaying of the
huddled group made the car rattle.
The elevator man quickly threw over
his lever. The car stopped with a
jerk between floors.
Orme had started to turn with the
others, but with a quick exclamation
he checked his movement and pressed
his face against the grating. A re
markable thing had happened. The
ascending car in the next well had
stopped at Alcatrante’s outcry. The
few passengers it was carrying,
eager to see what was happen
ing, hurried to the side nearest
to Orme. Less than two feet from his
face was the face of a girl. Almost
before he saw her at all he knew her.
He forgot that he had given her ap
parent cause to doubt him; he did not
stop to wonder what she was doing
in this building.
“Girl!” he whispered.
Her lips parted; her eyes opened
wider.
“Girl! Go to Tom Wallingham’s of
fice. I’ll come up there. Keep out of
sight when you hear me coming. Al
catrante is w’ith me.”
She nodded.
“I have the papers,” he added, a-nd
his heart thumped happily when he
saw joy and gratitude Hash into her
eyes.
From his position and manner he
might have been explaining to her
what was happening in his own car.
But now, conscious of the necessity of
taking part in the discussion about
him, he reluctantly turned away from
the girl.
Alcatrante was still exclaiming vol
ubly. His purse had disappeared. It
had been in his pocket just before he
entered the car. Therefore someone
in the car must have taken it. He did
not accuse any single person, though
he flashed suspicious glances at Orme,
who recognized, of course, that the
move was directed against himself.
To .embarrass Orme with arrest and
detention would well suit the purpose
of Alcatrante. At this late hour such
an event would prevent the delivery of
the papers. Orme wondered whether
the minister had realized that the pa
pers might be found by the police and
disposed of properly. The explana
tion of this apparent oversight on the
part of Alcatrante was not difficult,
however, for perhaps it was not a
nart of the plan that Orme should be
actually thrown into a cell. It was
more likely that an arrest would be
followed, after as much delay as Al
catrante could secure, by a refusal to
prosecute. One advantage to Alca
trante would be the opportunity of
getting assistance while Orme was in
the hands of the police so that after
the prisoner was released he would
have more than one person to contend
with. Alcatrante would give up acting
alone.
"Somebody has my purse!” Alca
trante was shouting. ‘Somebody here!
You must not let anybody out!”
The elevator boy had been gaping in
seeming paralysis, but now several of
the passengers—men who doubtless
were sure of their positions—were an
grily ordering him to take the car
down. Some of them had trains to
catch.
“No! No!” screamed Alcatrante.
Orme had kept out of the discussion,
but now he spoke quietly. “I think,
Senor Alcatrante”—he uttered the
name distinctly, knowing that the
South American probably did not wish
himself identified —“I think that, if the
boy will take the car almost to the
bottom, the starter will help you.”
There was a chorus of seconds to
this suggestion. The boy pulled the
lever and let the car descend slowly,
while Alcatrante continued to exclaim.
How would the South American try
to throw suspicion where he wished
it? Orme puzzled over this question,
for certainly the police would not ar
rest all the passengers. And then he
suddenly remembered how Alcatrante
had crowded against him when they
entered the car.
A cold wave of horror swept over
him. Was it possible that —?
He put his hand into the left side
pocket of his coat. Something was
there that did not belong there —a
smooth, bulging purse. Alcatrante had
put it there. ,
Orme fingered the purse. He would
have to get rid of it, but he dared not
to drop it to the floor, and if he thrust
it through the grating and let it fall
into the elevator well, some one would
be almost certain to detect the action.
There was only a moment left before
the car would stop. He looked down at
Alcatrante, who was close in front of
him. Then his face relaxed and in
spite of the gravity of his situation he
smiled; for he had found a solution.
Promptly he acted upon it.
The car halted just below the ceiling
of the first floor. “What's the matter
with you?” called a voice—the voice
of the starter.
“Man robbed,” said the elevator boy.
“Bring the car down.”
“No!” shouted Alcatrante. “The
thief is in the car. He must not es
cape.”
“I won't let him out. Bring the car
down.”
The boy let the car descend to the
floor level. The starter placed himself
against the gate. “Now then, who was
robbed?” he demanded.
Alcatrante crowded forward. “It was
I. My purse is gone. I had it just
before I got in.”
“Oh, it was you, was it?” The start
er remembered the trouble Alcatrante
had made a few minutes before. “Sure
you didn't drop it?”
“I am certain that I did not.”
The passengers were shuffling their
feet about, in a vain effort to touch the
lost property. A young girl was gig
gling hysterically.
“Perhaps you put it in the wrong
pocket, and didn’t look careful
enough.”
“I looked, I looked,” exclaimed Al
catrante. “Do you think I would not
know. See! I put it in this pocket,
which is now empty.” <
He thrust his hand into the pocket
which he had indicated. Suddenly his
expression changed to astonishment.
“Find it?” grinned the starter.
With the blankest of looks Alca
trante pulled the purse from his pock
et. “It was not there two minutes
ago,” he muttered.
“You've been dreamin',” remarked
the starter, opening the gate with a
bang. 'All out!”
Orme chuckled to himself. In a mo
ment Alcatrante would realize how the
purse had been replaced in his pocket,
and he would be furious. Meantime
Orme entered another elevator, to go
back to the eighth floor, and, as he had
expected, the minister followed him.
When they were outside the office of
the Wallingham company Orme paused,
his hand on the door. “Senor Alca
trante.” he said, “this business must
end. I shall simply have to call the
police.”
“At your own risk,” said Alcatrante.
Then an ugly light flashed ip his eyes
and his upper lip lifted above his yel
low teeth. “You got the better of me
there in the elevator,” he snarled.
“You won’t get the better again.”
Orme opened the office door. He
glanced about the reception room, to
see whether the girl had hidden her
self. She was not in view; indeed,
there was even no one at the inquiry
window.
The door of the great sample re
frigerator was ajar only two or three
feet. When Orme was there a few
minutes before it had been wide open.
He wondered whether the girl had
chosen it as her hiding place. If she
had, his plan of action would be sim
plified, for he would slip the papers in
to her, then get Alcatrante from the
room.
In a casual way he folded his arms.
He could now put his hand into his in
side coat pocket and the motion would
hardly be noticed.
For a moment he stood as though
waiting for some one to appear at the
inquiry window. Though Alcatrante
was watching him closely, Orme con
tinued to act as if he were the only
person in the room.
And now the dial of the big ther
mometer in the outer wall of the re
frigerator appeared to catch his eye,
and he strolled over to it. This placed
him almost in the open doorway. Ap
parently his eyes were on the dial, but
in reality he was glancing sidewise into
the chamber of the refrigerator. He
glimpsed a moving figure in there —
heard a faint rustling. Thrusting his
hand into the inside of his coat, he was
about to take out the precious papers
to pass them in to her.
Then he received a violent push
from behind. He plunged forward,
tripped with one foot on the sill of the
refrigerator doorway, and went in
headlong, sprawling on the tiled floor.
His clutching hand caught the fold of
a woman’s skirt. Then, though he re
mained conscious, everything suddenly
turned black.
Bewildered as he was, several sec
onds passed before he realized that the
massive door had been closed —that he
and the girl were prisoners.
CHAPTER XIV.
Prisoners in the Dark.
Orme’s hand still held her skirt
“Girl!” he whispered.
“Yes. Are you hurt?”
Her voice came to him softly with
all its solicitude and sympathy. She
knelt, to help him if need be, her
warm, supple hand rested gently on
his forehead. He could have remained
for a long time as he was, content with
her touch, but his good sense told him
that their safety demanded action.
"Not hurt at all,” he said, and as
she withdrew her hand, he arose. "Al
catrante caught me off guard,” he ex
plained.
“Yes, I saw him. There wasn’t time
to warn you.”
“He has been dogging me for an
hour,” Orme continued. “I felt as
though he were sitting on my shoul
ders, like an Old Man of the Sea.”
“I know him of old,” she replied.
"He is never to be trusted.”
“But you—how did you happen to be
here, in the Rookery?”
"In the hope of finding you.”
“Finding me?”
“I called up the Pere Marquette
about five minutes ago, and the clerk
said that you had just been talking to
him on the wire, but that he didn’t
know where you were. Then I remem
bered that you knew the Wallinghams,
and I came to Tom’s office to see if he
had any idea where you were. I was
on my way when I passed you in the
elevator.”
"Tom and Bessie are at Glenview,”
explained Orme.
"Yes, the girl at the inquiry desk
told me. She went to get her hat to
leave for the night, and I slipped into
this chamber to wait for you.”
“And here we are,” Orme laughed—
“papers and all. But I wish it weren’t
so dark.”
Orme hunted his pockets for a
match. He found just one.
“I don’t suppose, Girl, that you hap
pen to have such a thing as a match?”
h!im '
Received a violent Push.
She laughed lightly. “I’m sorry—
no.”
“I have only one/’ he said. “I'm
going to strike it, so that we can get
our bearings.”
He scratched the match on his sole.
The first precious moment of light he
permitted himself to look at her, fixing
her face in his mind as though he
were never to see It again. It re
joiced' him to find that in that instant
her eyes also .turned to his.
The interchange of looks was hard
for him to break. Only half the match
was gone before he turned from her,
but in that time he had asked and an
swered so many unspoken questions—
questions which at the moment were
still little more than hopes and yearn
ings. His heart was beating rapidly.
If she had doubted him, she did not
doubt him now. If she had not under
stood his feeling for her, she must un
derstand it now. And the look In her
own eyes —could he question that it
was more than friendly? But the ne
cessity of making the most of the light
forced him to forget for the moment
the tender presence of the girl who
filled his heart. He therefore employed
himself with a quick study of their sur
roundings.
The chamber was about ten feet
square, and lined smoothly with white
tiling. It was designed to show the
sanitary construction of the Walling
ham refrigerator. Orme remembered
how Tom had explained it all to him
on a previous visit to Chicago.
This was merely a storage chamber.
There was no connection with an ice
chamber, and there were none of the
hooks and shelves which would make
it complete for its purpose. The only
appliance was the thermometer, the
coils of which were fitted In flush with
the tiling, near the door, and protected
by a close metal grating. As for the
door itself, its outline was a fine seam.
There was a handle.
As the match burned close to his
fingers, Orme pulled out his watch. It
was twenty-nine minutes past five.
Darkness again.
Orme groped his way to the door and
tugged at the handle. The door would
not open; built with air-tight nicety.
It did not budge in the least.
This was what Orme had expected.
He knew that Alcatrante would have
shot the bolt. He knew, too, that Al
catrante would be waiting in the cor
ridor, to assure himself that the last
clerk left the office without freeing the
prisoner—that all the lights were out
and the office locked for the night.
Then he would depart, exulting that
the papers could not be delivered; and
in the morning Orme would be re
leased.
But had Alcatrante realized that the
chamber was air-tight? Surely he had
not known that the girl was already
there. The air that might barely suf
fice to keep one alive until relief came
would not suffice for two.
There was not the least opening to
admit of ventilation. Even the places
where, in a practical refrigerator, con
nection would be made with the leer
chamber, were blocked up; for that
matter, they were on that side of the
chamber which was built close into the
corner of the office.
Orme drove his heel against the
wall. The tiles did not break. Then
he stepped back toward the middle of
the chamber.
“Where are you. Girl?” he asked.
“Here,” she answered, very near
him.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
