Adventure, December 1914 — page 135: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A Man With Nine Lives “Yes? In what sense is that meant?” “You convey the information not only by the things you say, and the way in which you say them, but also by something which is in your eyes, on your face, in your whole attitude, Mr. Adair. You know that you have no right to what Mr. Jerningham Creed, in one of his more humorous mo- ments, left you—if only because, by the standard of an English court of law, to what he has left he had no right either.”’ “Is that so? Now we're getting out into the open, Mr. Outerbridge. You appear to be a gentleman of such keen intuition that I need not tell you that you are putting my suspicions into words.”’ ‘Your suspicions?” “‘My suspicions! Are you hinting that they have been more than suspicions, that they amounted to exact knowledge?” “Not at all. You’re one of those men to whom I should be unwilling to hint any- thing they would rather I didn’t. I don’t like to use such words as hypocrite, and humbug, and others of that kind; so I'll just say that you’re a clever man. And I hope you're clever enough to understand that I’m saying only what I mean when I tell you that the gentlemen I represent want these goods—their goods—today—now. “IT have here a little document which will give you full particulars of our side of the deal; with an exact description of the arti- _ cles sent, the price at which they were val- ued—a valuation, mind you, accepted by the late Mr. Jerningham Creed—and other interesting items which you may find it worth your while to glance through.”’ Mr. Outerbridge had taken some papers from his breast pocket—was unfolding and offering them to Mr. Adair who stood a foot or two in front of him as he sat perched upon the corner of the table. Mr. Adair had made a half step forward, to get within reach of the proffered papers, when he swung suddenly round, just in time to see the door open noiselessly and a square- faced man, with yellow skin and slits for eye- holes,slip swiftly and stealthily into the room. No sooner was he in than a lean, brown hand, appearing round the side of the door, suggested that some one else was close be- hind. Before there was time to see what belonged to the hand Mr. Adair had cross- ed the room, caught the square-faced man by the neck, torn the door open, flung him out, shut the door with a bang and slipped 133 the bolt. He stood for a moment listen- ing; then he turned to Mr. Outerbridge. “‘Those, I presume, are some of the gen- tlemen you represent; there seem to be sev- eral on the landing. Do you imagine that —in that sort of way—you can get what I don’t choose that you shall have?” Mr. Outerbridge had remained immov- able on the corner of the table. During the little scene which had just been enacted in front of him not the slightest change had taken place in his demeanor; he spoke now in the same easy, genial tone of voice. “You take things a good deal for granted, Mr. Adair. You assisted that gentleman out of the room very neatly indeed. The inference would seem to be that he’s a friend of yours; if he isn’t, why should you conclude that he’s an acquaintance of mine? “‘Now would you just like to run your eye—since the little interlude is finished— over these one or two little papers of mine?” Hae room—broad, old-fashioned ones. The panes of glass were almost wholly obscured by dirt. The sashes were thrown up as far as they would go. Instead of acknowledging the visitor’s invitation to look at what he called his two or three lit- tle papers, Mr. Adair made a dash at one of these open sashes. He got there just in time to seize a yel- low wrist which was attached to a hand, the long fingers of which had suddenly grip- ped the sill. He slightly jerked the wrist— the fingers and the hand disappeared. He brought down the sash with a run, fastened it with a catch, and, without an instant’s pause, passed to the window beyond—over the bottom of which a human head was rising. He struck the face, when it came in sight, such a blow with his clenched fist that it vanished much quicker than it had ap- peared. He closed that window; then again he turned to Mr. Outerbridge who, still im- perturbable, seemed to play the part of an indifferent spectator. ‘“‘What a remarkable sort of fool you and your friends must take me for! Do you think any of them are likely to try to effect an entry down the chimney?” “Gently repudiating your suggestion that they’re friends of mine—I really couldn’t say. , They appear to be persevering per- sons.’ (Ne THERE were two windows in the NOOK C©