Problem Four. That night, all on his own, he would make an attempt

to enter that old house sandwiched between the two vacant warehouses.

Through pressure of authority he had obtained keys to both warehouses.

There would be a trap on the roof of that house. Doubtless it would be

covered with tin; fairly impregnable if latched below. But he could find

out. From the third-floor windows of either warehouse the drop was not

more than six feet. If anywhere in town poor old Stefani Gregor would be

in one of those rooms. But to storm the house frontally, without being

absolutely sure, would be folly. Gregor would be killed. The house was

in fact an insane asylum, occupied by super-insane men. Warned, they

Advertisement..

were capable of blowing the house to kingdom come, themselves with it.

Problem Five was a mere vanishing point. He doubted if he would ever see

those emeralds. What an infernal pity!

He built a coronet and leaned back, a wisp of smoke darting up from the

bowl of his pipe.

"I say, you know, but that's a ripping game to play!" drawled a tired

voice over his shoulder.

Cutty turned his head, to behold Hawksley, shaven, pale, and handsome,

wrapped in a bed quilt and swaying slightly.

"What the deuce are you doing out of your room?" growled Cutty, but with

the growl of a friendly dog.

Hawksley dropped into a chair weakly. "End of my rope. Got to talk to

someone. Go dotty, else. Questions. Skull aches with 'em. Want to know

whether this is a foretaste of the life I have a right to live--or the

beginning of death. Be a good sport, and let's have it out."

"What is it you wish to know?" asked Cutty, gently. The poor beggar!

"Where I am. Who you are. What happened to me. What is going to happen

to me," rather breathlessly. "Don't want any more suspense. Don't want

to look over my shoulder any more. Straight ahead. All the cards on the

table, please."

Cutty rose and pushed the invalid's chair to a window and drew another

up beside it.

"My word, the top of the world! Bally odd roost."

"You will find it safer here than you would on the shores of Kaspuskoi

More," replied Cutty, gravely. "The Caspian wouldn't be a healthy place

for you now."

With wide eyes Hawksley stared across the shining, wavering roofs. A

pause. "What do you know?" he asked, faintly.

"Everything. But wait!" Cutty fetched one of the photographs and laid it

upon the young man's knees. "Know who this is--Two-Hawks?"




Most Popular