The Deaves Affair

"Did they fire you?" he asked.

"They did," said Evan grimly.

"Well, well, well!" said the old man with that unalterable grin. "You're a good boy too! I always said so! But what can anybody do with a wilful woman! So we've had our last walk together, eh?"

He really seemed to be sorry. So was Evan. In spite of all, Simeon Deaves was a funny old cuss. "Our last walk!" said Evan.

"But of course you're not worth what George pays you," he added, quickly. "Nothing like! Nothing like!"

The old fellow was incorrigible. Evan laughed. "Well, good-bye," he said without any hard feeling.

"Wait a minute. Say, I hate to think of those blackguards getting away with the money after all."

"So do I," said Evan quickly.

"Why don't you go after them yourself?"

"Where is the money to be sent to-day?"

"To the library."

"Do you remember what book was mentioned?"

"Yes. 'Carlyle's Essays,' Riverside edition."

"Well, maybe I will," said Evan. "I owe them something on my own account."

"That's right! That's right. If you land those rascals behind the bars, I'll mention you in my will."

"That's kind of you," said Evan dryly.

Evan didn't care to show his eagerness to the old man, but as a matter of fact his heart jumped at the suggested chance of getting back at the gang. He could hardly hope to do anything at the library in his own person, but Charley's assistance might be enlisted. Evan hastened home to get him.

An hour later Evan and Charley called upon the librarian who had assisted Evan and George Deaves on the former occasion. In the meantime Charley had been told the story of the previous night's happenings, and he was eager to take a hand in the game.

Evan said to the librarian: "Mr. Deaves received another demand for money this morning."

The librarian naturally assumed that Evan was still in his employ, and it was not necessary for Evan to lie in that connection.

A similar arrangement to the previous one was made. An inquiry revealed the fact that "Carlyle's Essays" had just been returned to the shelves. They were brought to the librarian's office, and Evan found that the bills were indeed in volume one. He marked them and the books were returned with instructions that they were to be notified when they were again called for. Evan and Charley waited.

They were called for in an hour, and from the same seat in the reading-room as on the former occasion, number 433. Charley and the librarian departed for the reading-room. Charley's instructions were to make very sure that the bills were actually abstracted from the book, and then to apprehend the man who took them without waiting for him to get out of the building, and to call on any of the library attendants for assistance if need be. Meanwhile Evan waited in the librarian's office, prepared to take a hand when the alarm was raised.

But no alarm was raised. Evan waited half an hour in the keenest impatience and then the librarian returned alone.

"What happened?" demanded Evan.

"Nothing – as yet," was the answer. "I took your friend around through the American History room, just as I took you that day, and explained to him the location of seat 433. Since there was no danger of his being recognised he went right into the reading-room and took a seat at the same table. I scarcely liked to show myself, so I waited in the adjoining room. I had an attendant there in case he needed help.

"But we heard no sound, and when I finally looked into the reading-room I saw that your friend had gone, and that seat number 433 was also empty. The Carlyle books were lying on the table. The money had been taken. So I came back here to tell you."

Evan was anxious and perplexed. "I don't understand what could have happened," he said. "If the crook got away in spite of Charley, why didn't he come back here to report?"

"Perhaps he's still on his trail."

"But he was told not to let him get out of the building. There's nothing for me to do I suppose, but wait here."

Evan waited in the librarian's office until after lunch, but Charley neither came back nor sent any word. By the end of that time Evan, divided between anger and anxiety, was in a fever. He decided to make a trip home.

By the time he reached Washington Square anxiety had the upper hand. The gang must have got the better of Charley he told himself, or he would have had some word. Evan had had experience of the desperate lengths to which they were prepared to go. Would they now put their final threat into execution upon his hapless friend? Evan blamed himself bitterly for having sent Charley into danger. "If I do not hear from him during the afternoon, I'll send out a general alarm at police headquarters," he thought.

When Evan opened the door of 45A, Miss Sisson, according to her custom, stuck her head out into the hall.

"I suppose you haven't seen Mr. Straiker," said Evan.

"Yes, I have," she answered. "He came in about lunch time."

"What!" said Evan staring.

"He came in and packed his trunk and took it away in a taxi-cab. Said he was going away for a few days. Wouldn't tell me where he was going. Seemed funny to me he wanted his trunk if it was only a few days, but of course I couldn't object for his rent is paid up and he left his furniture anyway, though that wouldn't bring much. I will say he acted funny though, to an old friend like me. Wouldn't give me any information."

Evan stared at the woman as if he thought she had suddenly lost her mind. Then without a word he ran up the three flights of stairs. A glance in Charley's room confirmed what she had told him. Things were thrown about in the wildest confusion. But all Charley's clothes were gone, as well as all the personal belongings that he treasured.

Evan never gave a thought to the five thousand dollars; what cut him to the quick was the suggestion that his friend had betrayed him. There is nothing bitterer.

"I needn't have been so anxious about him," thought grimly. "This is more like treachery!"

CHAPTER XVII

THE ERNESTINA AGAIN

The next day was Saturday, and whatever had happened to Evan, he did not forget that this was the day of the Ernestina's excursion, nor would he relinquish his determination to take it. In his present sore and bitter state of mind the prospect of a row was rather welcome than otherwise.

He timed himself to arrive at the East Twentieth street pier at nine-twenty, that is to say ten minutes before the steamboat was due to leave. He found Denton taking tickets at the gangway as before, but it was a very different face that Denton turned to him this morning; censure, reproach and apprehension all had a part in his expression. "He's been filled up with great stories about me," thought Evan. There was a policeman standing near Denton. Evan's eyes glittered at the sight of him.

Evan made believe not to notice any change in Denton's manner. "Good morning," he said cheerfully.

Denton made no reply.

"What can I do to-day?" asked Evan.

Denton shook his head.

Evan affected to be greatly surprised. "Why, what's the matter?"

"I guess you know," the other said sorely.

The policeman stepped up. "Is this the guy as made trouble for you last trip?" he asked hoarsely.