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Chapter 32

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time was very precious, but i allowed myself a few minutes for hard, concentrated thought. i believed that blondy would be under surveillance from the time he left the association rooms until he reached the appointed spot. evidently my man was aware of the advantage to himself of rushing the thing through, and it was likely the keys would be picked up within a few minutes of the time they were dropped. at any rate he would surely come after them by daylight, for night would make an ambush easy. therefore it was up to me to make my preparations before the boy got there. not very easy when he was already about to start.

my man had had several days in which to find the spot near new york best suited to his purpose. from blondy's description the place he had chosen must be bare of cover in miles. "thomas wilkinson" would come in an automobile, naturally, and if anything in the vicinity aroused his suspicions he would not stop. i could not hope to pick him out among all who passed. it was a tough problem.

i called up lanman the chief of the detective bureau. nowadays i commanded the respect of these people.

"look here," i said, "we have a chance to take the boss of the thief trust this afternoon, if we strike like lightning."

"shoot!" said he.

"first, send me quick a high-powered automobile with a nervy chauffeur and two operatives. have them pick me up at the southwest corner of second avenue and 59th street, queensboro bridge plaza."

"right!"

"next get together five other good cars without any distinctive marks. come yourself in one of them, and bring a dozen good men. meet me—let me see—what town is there near greenwood city, long island, but not on the same road?"

"ringstead, two miles south."

"know a hotel there?"

"mitchell's a road house."

"good. have your five cars proceed to mitchell's by different roads as quickly as possible. i may not be able to come there to you, but wait there for further instructions by telephone."

"o.k.," he said. "we'll be on the way in ten minutes."

"one thing more. bring a good pair of field glasses."

i took my own binoculars and a gun. on the way to the meeting-place i bought a road map of long island. the car was already waiting for me at the spot named. lanman was a man after my own heart.

we made quick time. i was provided with a police badge in case any of the local constables should object to our rate of travel. on the road i studied my map and got the lay of the land in my head.

it was twelve-five when we reached greenwood city, or fifty minutes before the train was due. as we passed the railway station i saw a car already waiting there, and i wondered idly if that would have anything to do with my case. it was a very distinguished-looking car of a foreign make with a dark green body of the style the french call coupé de ville. it seemed a little odd that any one should choose to ride in a closed car in such hot weather. an irreproachable chauffeur and footman waited near.

we turned into suffolk street, and hastened on out of town out to ringstead plains. it was all just as blondy had given it to me over the phone. there was the last house at the edge of the plain, and half a mile ahead stood the lonely locust tree beside the road. the house looked as if it might belong to a small farmer or market gardener. there was a small barn behind it. ahead of us there was no other habitation visible as far as we could see.

we kept on. it is a well-known motor road, and we passed cars from time to time. earlier and later it would be quite crowded i expect, but this was one of the quietest hours. about three-quarters of a mile beyond the locust tree there was a wood that i had my eye on. it was not of very great extent, but showed a dense growth of young trees.

reaching it, i found to my great satisfaction that there was a rough wagon track leading away among the trees, i had the chauffeur turn in there. there was no other car in view at the moment. within a few yards the wagon track curved a little, and we were lost to view from the road. i got out and made my way to the edge of the trees. from this point i found i could overlook the locust tree with the aid of my binoculars.

this was all i wanted. i gave the order to return to greenwood city. a little further in the wood there was a clearing sufficient to enable us to turn. one gets over the ground quickly in a car, and when we got back to greenwood we still had twenty-five minutes before the train was due. this place, by the way, is not a city at all, but merely a village embowered in trees. the handsome green car was still waiting at the station. i went to a hotel to telephone.

to my joy i got lanman on the phone without delay.

"i am here at mitchell's with three of the cars," he said. "the other two were sent by a slightly longer route. they will be here directly."

"take three cars and proceed by the shortest route to greenwood city," i said. "make haste because i expect my man on the train from town in twenty minutes, and you must get through the village before he arrives."

"we can be there in five," said lanman.

"turn to the right on suffolk street and proceed out on the plains. a mile and a half out of town you come to the last house. it is a grey house without any trees around it; there is a small barn behind it. stop there and put up your cars in the barn in such a way that you can run them out quickly. i don't know the people in the house. i have no reason to believe that they have any connection with the man we want, but you'll have to use your judgment."

i went on to explain to him just what blondy was going to do, and how i expected our man to turn up shortly afterwards.

"the east windows of the house overlook the locust tree," i went on. "station yourself at one of them with your glasses, and you will be able to see whatever happens at the tree."

"i get you," he said. "what about the other two cars? one of them is just turning into the yard now."

"let them leave ringstead by merton street," i said, consulting my map, "and proceed east to the joppa pike; thence north to the suffolk pike and turn back towards greenwood city. about two miles and a half before reaching the village, more than a mile beyond the house where you will be, there is a small wood on the left hand side of the road. there is a wagon track leading into it. they are to turn in there and they will find me a little way inside."

"all right," said lanman. "the last car is coming now."

"listen," i said. "our man without doubt will come in a car. after he picks up the keys i expect he will keep on in the road. in which case he falls into my hands. but if he should turn around and go back it's up to you."

"i understand," said lanman grimly.

ten minutes later i was back at my observation post at the edge of the wood. i had not been there long when through my glasses i saw a car turn into the farmer's place. a second and a third car followed at short intervals. in a quarter of an hour the first police car joined me, and a few minutes afterward the second. each contained two men in addition to the chauffeur.

we turned the cars around and stationed them in line where, though they were invisible from the highroad, they could run out upon it in a few seconds. the other side of the highway was fenced. having completed our arrangements, there was nothing to do for a while, and i told the men to take it easy.

according to my calculations blondy would appear in view about one-thirty. it was a long walk from the station and a hot day. exactly on schedule i saw a speck in the distance which presently resolved itself through the glasses into the figure of a solitary pedestrian. as he neared the tree i saw that it was blondy. so far so good.

i was lying on the ground at the edge of the little wood with the glasses steadied on a fallen trunk. the whole flat plain was spread before me. the cars were about thirty yards behind me, each chauffeur at his wheel. between me and them i had the four men stationed at intervals so i could pass a whispered order back.

while blondy was covering the space between the house and the locust tree a green car hove in view behind him, which i presently recognised from the irreproachable chauffeur and footman as the coupé de ville. it overtook the walking figure, and came on up the road, past the wood, and past us. i wondered if our man was now inside.

blondy reached the tree at last. i suspected that he welcomed the shade. it seemed perfectly natural for him to sit down under it. he remained there ten minutes. several cars passed to and fro and one of them stopped. this puzzled me for a moment, but i supposed that it was merely some good samaritan who offered the perspiring boy a lift. while blondy was sitting there the green car went back. i was pretty sure now that it contained our quarry.

at last blondy got up and started back. these periods of waiting try a man's nerves. mine were pretty well on edge by this time. it seemed to take an age for the boy to retrace his steps over the visible part of the road. about two hundred yards beyond the farmhouse there was a bend in it which concealed the rest from my view.

a minute or two after blondy disappeared from my sight, the big green car again hove into view around the bend. my heart hit up a few extra beats.

"get ready," i sent word along the line.

to my great disappointment it did not stop at the tree. it came on, and passed the wood again with the loud purr of new tires. however, i explained it to myself by the fact that there was another car in view at the moment. i set myself to wait in the expectation of his return.

in five minutes return he did, but this time there was a car close behind, and once more he passed out of sight without stopping. i hoped that lanman had marked the passing and repassing of the fashionable car.

it was now past two o'clock, and the hottest part of the day was coming on. a haze of heat undulated shimmeringly over the plain. our tempers suffered. there in the little wood we were in the shade, it is true, but there was not a breath of air stirring, and the mosquitoes were busily plying their trade. the men breathed hard, and wiped their faces. at first they had taken their coats off, but finding the insects could bite through their shirtsleeves they had put them on again. i had thrown off my hot wig. a disguise was unnecessary now.

once more the green car turned into sight beyond the farmhouse. this time the road was empty and my heart beat hopefully. sure enough it stopped opposite the locust tree.

"start your engines," i whispered along the line.

a man alighted from the coupé and walked to the tree. a panama hat shaded his face and i could not get a good look at it. he walked around the tree and seemed to be gazing up in its branches, as well as looking down at the roots. i could not understand this evolution, still i was pretty sure that i saw him stoop and pick something up.

he returned to his car, and it started forward.

"go ahead," i said to my men.

they knew what they had to do. i lingered a moment to see whether he was going to turn around or come on. he came straight, faster than he had been travelling. i ran after my cars.

according to instructions they moved out in line across the road, completely blocking it. i timed it as closely as i could, but unfortunately the road was perfectly straight. with the appearance of the first car out of the wood, the green car took the alarm. we heard the screech of the brakes. they came to a stop in a cloud of dust. those town cars can turn almost in their own length. around they went and back with the exhaust opened wide.

we jumped aboard our cars and as soon as we could disentangle ourselves took after them. they were half a mile away when we got straightened out. now if only lanman did not fail me!

to my joy, away ahead i saw the police cars slowly move one, two, three across the road. we had him trapped! once more the green car stopped in a cloud of dust.

lanman and i approaching from opposite directions, reached it simultaneously. we had our guns out.

"what's the matter with you?" the angry, frightened chauffeur cried.

we paid small attention to him. i and my gun looked into the coupé together. lanman ran around to the other door. in the corner of the seat i saw, exquisite, immaculate—alfred mount!

"you!" he gasped.

"you!" i cried.

of the two i was the more surprised. for the moment i was incapable of moving.

he did not speak again, nor attempt to get up. through the front window of the coupé he saw the small crowd of detectives gathering. the light died out of those bright, black eyes. he clapped the back of his hand to his mouth as you have seen women do in moments of despair. the hand dropped nervelessly in his lap. before my eyes his face turned livid. his body stiffened out in a horrible brief spasm, and he fell over sideways on the seat—dead!

my eyes and lanman's were glued alike in horror to the corpse. the left hand, a hand too elegant for a man's had now dropped to the floor. a glance at it explained the tragedy. an immense flat emerald on the ring finger was sprung back revealing a tiny cup beneath. the chief and i looked at each other in understanding.

we were recalled to practical matters by the imperious tooting of a horn up the road. one oncoming chauffeur naturally objected to the barricade of automobiles. lanman and i alike dreaded the irruption of foolish curiosity-seekers. at a word from me he hustled the detectives into their respective cars, and got them straightened out. they were all ordered back to headquarters. all this happened within a few moments. i don't believe any of the detectives realised that the man was dead.

none of the engines had stopped and we quickly had the road clear. lanman and i thought so much alike in this crisis that it was hardly necessary to talk. we got into the coupé with its ghastly burden and without touching it, sat down on the two little seats facing it. a glance at the police badge was sufficient for the chauffeur.

"your master has had a stroke," i said to him. "take us to his home as soon as possible."

lanman nodded his approval.

when we got mount's body to his rooms, we sent for his doctor, one of the most famous practitioners in town, also for the commissioner of police and for mr. walter dunsany.

when the five of us were gathered together, we consulted, and finally put it up to the commissioner to decide what ought to be done in the interests of good citizenship. after listening to me, to mr. dunsany and to the doctor, all of whom felt the same, though for different reasons, he voted with us. we agreed that mount had taken the best way out under the circumstances. none of us wanted to drag his dead body through the mire. as much of the loot as could be recovered was already recovered. none of us wanted to see any more scandal aired in the newspapers. therefore it was given out that mr. mount had committed suicide while motoring in the country, and no cause for the act was assigned.

of course i told roland and irma the truth, so that no shadow might dim their future happiness.

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