ASHTON-KIRK BEGINS TO PLAN

As Ashton-Kirk and Pendleton left the “Rangnow,” the latter said:

“You surely do not suppose that Morris will call on you?”

“Why not?”

“It does not sound reasonable.”

“A day or two ago I would have said the same. But things are taking on a different aspect. And with their change, Morris will change. He had no idea of what was to come, or he would not have done what he has done.”

“No criminal would,” said Pendleton.

Ashton-Kirk shrugged his shoulders at this, but made no direct reply.

“And now if these newspapers, with all their pointed references to Edyth Vale, do not make the man come forward,” he went on, “what is about to happen say within the next forty-eight hours will be sure to do so.”

Pendleton turned a surprised look upon him.

“You think, then, that something unusual is about to happen?”

“I know there is,” was the quiet reply. “To-night, old chap, has been most prolific in results. It has indicated why the murder was done; it has suggested the identity of the actual murderer; it has even pointed out the spot upon which we shall finally take him.”

“You really mean all that?” cried Pendleton, incredulously.

“I do.”

“Then you must have learned it at some time while I was not ” here Pendleton paused, and then proceeded in another tone. “But you have not been out of my sight since dinner. Everything you have heard, I have heard; all that you have seen, I have seen.”

“Just so,” said Ashton-Kirk.

There was a pause; they walked along toward the place where they were to get a street car. At length Pendleton spoke once more.

“And from the rather bald reports of your two assistants, and the talk of this man, Tobin, you have gathered these most vital facts?”

“We can hardly call them facts as yet,” said the other; “but I have every confidence that we can do so within the time specified.”

A gong sounded sharply and a car crossed the street. Pendleton placed his hand upon his friend’s shoulder.

“Kirk,” said he, “I am not going to ask another question. I’m just going to wait, and if it turns out as you say, I’ll never question a statement of yours as long as I live. I’ll swallow them all as the Mussulman swallows the Koran.”

They boarded the car and Ashton-Kirk settled himself in a corner. His arms were folded across his chest, his head gradually sank forward. To all appearances he was asleep; but Pendleton knew that he was merely turning over some plan of action that would, in a little time, begin to reveal itself.

However, he was not prepared for such quick action as resulted; for suddenly Ashton-Kirk jumped up, glanced out at the car window, then darted to the platform and leaped off. Pendleton followed at once, and came up with him part way down an intersecting street.

“Where to now?” he asked.

“City Hall,” replied Ashton-Kirk, briefly.

It was no great distance to the municipal buildings; they shot up in the elevator and entered the police department.

“I’d like to see Superintendent Weagle,” said the investigator to the officer who came forward to speak to them.

“He’s just getting ready to go home,” answered the man, “but I’ll see what I can do.”

The superintendent of police happened to be in an obliging humor, and they were shown into his office a few moments later. Weagle stood in the middle of the floor, drawing on a light over-coat; the end of a black cigar was clenched between his teeth.

“How are you?” greeted he. “Anything doing in my line?”

“Not just yet,” replied Ashton-Kirk, “but I have some hopes.”

The official laughed.

“We all have them,” said he. “If we didn’t we might as well put up the shutters.” He threw the cigar end away and wiped his stubby moustache with a large handkerchief. “You’ve come for something,” said he. “What is it? My wife and kiddies are expecting me, and I must get home.”

“How long are you going to maintain the police guard at 478 Christie Place?” inquired the investigator.

“I hadn’t thought of it,” replied the superintendent. “However, we are in the habit of keeping such details up for some little time. Another thing, there is a lot of valuable stuff there which must be looked after.”

“Beginning with to-morrow night,” said Ashton-Kirk, “I want you to withdraw your men. And further, I want your permission for my friend Mr. Pendleton and myself to watch in their place.”

The official opened his eyes at this.

“Well,” said he, after a moment’s silence, “I don’t just understand your reasons; and the thing is most unusual. But,” and he nodded his head approvingly, “I’ve always noticed that you have reasons behind everything you do, and if this thing is expected to throw any further light on the Hume case, why, it shall be as you say.”

“Thank you,” said Ashton-Kirk. “Unless I am much mistaken it will close the matter finally as far as your department is concerned, and put the whole thing up to the District Attorney.”

“You mean,” said the superintendent with interest, “that you’ve got something new on Spatola and perhaps on Morris and the girl!”

“I mean,” answered Ashton-Kirk, “that I hope to place the murderers of the numismatist Hume in your hands in a few days whoever they may be.”

Weagle waved his hand.

“That’s all we want,” said he with a laugh. “Give us the right ones and we’ll make no complaint. And now, if you have nothing more to say, I’ll say good-night.”

They parted with the superintendent in the corridor; then Ashton-Kirk led the way into a room where some police officials and a number of young men were lounging about.

“Oh, how are you?” greeted a stout sergeant, affably. “And how’s the work?”

While the investigator was speaking to the sergeant, one of the alert-looking young men approached.

“Pardon,” said he. “But is there anything you’d like to say to the Star?”

“No,” replied Ashton-Kirk.

“You are working on the Hume case, are you not?” asked the reporter with professional insistence.

“Oh, I have had a little interest in it as an outsider, that is all,” returned the other. “However,” as he was passing through with Pendleton, “I can give you a piece of official police news on the case, which I just got from the superintendent. After to-night the guard will be removed from Hume’s place. Weagle thinks the regular policeman on the beat is all that is needed from now on.”

As they left the building by the main door, Pendleton said:

“A little while ago, I rashly promised to ask no more questions. If you’ll release me from that, I’ll unburden myself of one or two which will otherwise keep me awake to-night.”

“Go ahead,” said Ashton-Kirk with a smile.

“Why,” asked Pendleton, “do you want the police called off at Hume’s? and why should we place ourselves on watch instead?”

“At the very first we made up our minds that the men who murdered Hume were in search of something, didn’t we? Up to this time I have been unable to say whether they had succeeded or not. Now, however, I am convinced that they failed.”

“Ah!”

“To-morrow the newspapers will announce that Hume’s place is to be no longer guarded. It may be that the criminals are desperate enough to venture another visit in order to gain possession of the thing they covet. If they do, we shall be awaiting them.”

“But how do you know that they failed of their object on the night of the murder?”

“You and I,” said Ashton-Kirk, laughingly, “are perhaps going to spend considerable time in Christie Place, beginning with to-morrow evening. And while there we may find it dull enough, old boy; a little amusement of a practical sort might not be found out of place. So I’ll not answer your question now; I’ll allow it to stand until to-morrow night; and then I’ll give it to you, compact and complete, with practical illustrations as I go along.”