All Story Magazine, December 1913 — page 164: what you’re looking at

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

874 THE bad after all. I will meet you in the lobby of the Saint Claire in half an hour. Be sure to be there.” “ You bet I will! Good-by.” Immensely pleased, I dropped an- other nickel in the slot and called Max Leidner’s number. As luck would have it Doris herself answered. “Hello, This is Cliff: Ellis.” “Yes: what’s the matter? ” came her wondering question. ““Can’t explain now. I want you to Pp 3 do something. Call up Mr. King at number Double-O-three Madison Square. That is the number of the Hotel Willington, where Iam now. I am Mr. King, understand. ‘Tell the operator to have me paged in the wri- ting-room. Telephone immediately.” a Yes,” came her quick response. ‘* Good-by.” “ Good-by,” I said, and again walked unsteadily across the room and rejoined the girl, who was sitting patiently where I left her. As I took my seat beside her at the desk the man with the gimlet eyes had already emerged from the other telephone booth and was saunter- ing casually toward us. “M'wife was out — hic — visitin’ frien’,” I informed the girl with the changeable eyes. “So I talked wiz daughter—beau’ ful little g-girl—hic— m ‘daughter 15, betcherlife. Her muz- zer’s goin’ call me soon’s she—” « Ks Mr. King—Mr. King!” cried a young man in uniform, paging through the writing-room. “There she is now,” I said. “ Holy smoke! If m’ wife saw me sittin’ here wizzu—good night! Very j-jealous woman—m’ wife,” I smiled stupidly at my companion. “ ’Xcuse me once more —hic—please. Be back in minute.” She bowed a smiling acquiescence as 1 rose and followed the boy. As I turned into the lobby I could see the man with the expressionless face stand- ing near the girl at the desk, staring up steadfastly at the ceiling. “ He figures it’s best to watch her,” I reflected. “ Very good. It would have been a hard job to lose him.” ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. I took the call in a booth which one of the operators at the switchboard in- dicated. “Hello, Doris!” I said. “You've done well. That’s all I wanted—to be called so I could get away from a cer- tain party. Will explain later. See you as soon as I can. I’ve got the ring. Good-by.” Without losing any time I hurried across the lobby and out on Broadway, very well pleased with my impromptu performance. “Now for a little investigation,” I mused, wending my way back toward the house from which Doris Armont No. 2 had emerged. I had the girl’s keys to apartment’ No. 12, and I might find papers there which would throw some light on this baffling riddle of the ring. Her brother would have left by this time to meet his sister at the Saint Claire, and thus the apartment would be open for my inspection. WKronholtz’s man would be on his way to the Garford Hotel. He would get tired waiting for the girl after an hour, and return to report to his employer. Then - Kronholtz would telephone apantment No. 12 to find nobody there, and then rush to the Willington to try and trace the girl. After her brother became tired of waiting at the Saint Claire the probabil- ities were that he would go to the Wil- lington also. Meanwhile the girl would become uneasy at my non-ap- pearance, but I counted on her deciding to wait there, trusting that I would eventually return. She would be afraid to leave the writing-room and thus lose all chance of recovering the ring. I ought to have a clear road in my investigation for the next hour, at least. “Gee! Won't they be mad when they all meet in the Willington and compare notes?” I chuckled. “ Won- der how in blazes 1 Mr. Gimlet- Eyes be- came mixed up—” “Good evening, Mr. Ellis.” Somebody had tapped me gently on the shoulder. comlicbooks.com