The Secret Toll

"Robert," she whispered, impressively, "you are safe only when I am with you!"

Forrester stared at her in astonishment. There was a beseeching look in her eyes, however, and she held her hands out to him with a pleading gesture which he could not resist.

"Come," he said, briefly, and taking her arm led her across the room and around through the hall into the conservatory. Near its center, hidden from prying eyes among palms and flowering plants, they found Mr. Melville's son stretched out on a bench. Near by stood the father, while a gray-haired man leaned over the young man. The gray-haired man stood erect at the sound of Forrester's and the girl's approach. Mr. Melville was apparently too much distressed to notice Mary Sturtevant's unbidden presence. He turned to Forrester, informing him simply that the gray-haired man was a doctor.

The deathly pallor on the young man's face told the story. Forrester, however, inquired:

"Dead?"

"Yes," replied the doctor. "Asphyxiated!"

"This is the work of the 'Friends of the Poor,' Forrester," asserted Mr. Melville. "I knew that you were involved and had been carrying on some investigations in the matter. It occurred to me that there might be some clues here of value to you. This is the story:

"About two weeks ago I was ordered by these people to place a certain sum in that oak tree. Naturally, I ignored the demand and notified the police. Since then I have taken every precaution to protect myself against attack. Unable to get at me, it seems obvious that these contemptible wretches have reached me through my son. That, I believe, is a new angle, and shows the extremes to which these people are prepared to go."

"When did this happen, Mr. Melville?" asked Forrester.

"About a half-hour ago, I should say, I saw my son pass into the conservatory with this young lady," and Mr. Melville turned toward Mary Sturtevant for the first time.

Forrester also turned and looked at the girl. She met his gaze steadily.

"Shortly after I came here," she explained, "my next dancing partner entered and claimed me. I left young Mr. Melville sitting near that open window over there."

Forrester gave no outward indication of the shock he had received. He clearly remembered that after young Melville's dance the next three dances were his. It was during the first of these, the one she had intimated belonged to someone else, that he had missed the girl. He knew, therefore, that she had lied deliberately, placing it squarely up to him to protect her. "Protect her from what?" thought Forrester. "What was this frightful new development in the mystery?"

"I decided I wanted a smoke," continued Mr. Melville, "and so came into the conservatory. A moment later I found my son on the floor beneath that open window where Miss Sturtevant says she left him. My doctor was among the guests and I summoned him at once – but too late, it seems."

"Any other facts?" asked Forrester, and received another shock when the doctor handed him a small piece of filmy white fabric.

"I found this beside the body," said the doctor. And added, as Forrester took it, "Note the peculiar odor."

Forrester lifted the fabric to his nose. Instantly he recognized the same pungent, drug-like smell which he had noticed the night he was attacked with the death mask. Examining the filmy bit of cloth, Forrester saw that it was a part of a lady's handkerchief which had been torn in half. In one corner the letter "S" was embroidered. Crumpling the handkerchief in his hand, Forrester pushed it into his waistcoat pocket.

"I believe I can make use of this," he said.

CHAPTER XVII – AT THE DOORSTEP

Crushed beneath the weight of his secret knowledge of Mary Sturtevant's seemingly close connection with the infamous band of extortioners and murderers who were literally terrorizing the city, Forrester fell into a dull routine that held him back from making any progress in the case. That a girl of her delicate refinement, superior intelligence and appealing femininity should be involved with these men whose wanton butcheries were becoming more and more appalling, was a bewildering conundrum. Had anyone simply stated the case to Forrester, he would have ridiculed such a suggestion, yet step by step facts had accumulated rapidly from the day he first met her at the oak tree, culminating in the astounding situation at the dance. The facts were so glaringly against her then that he hardly dared review them.

At the time he put her handkerchief in his pocket he had had two objects in view; to save her from the possible consequences of the discovery of so definite a clue, and later to confront her with it and force a confession. He had a wild idea that once he knew the whole story he could persuade her to go away with him where the baleful hold these men apparently had on her could not follow. Remembering the coincidence of her leaving the room with young Melville, her absence when it was Forrester's turn to dance with her, and her untruthful statement regarding her parting with Melville, Forrester saw clearly that her activities in the affair were more than passive. Everything pointed to her as a daring accomplice.

Forrester decided that as she had repulsed all his efforts to induce her to leave, it would be better for him to stay away from her entirely and let her work out her destiny in her own wilful way. For this reason he refused all invitations, knowing that the wide acquaintance which her letters of introduction had gained for her would inevitably result in his meeting the girl at practically every place he went.

In spite of loud protests from Josephine, he had declined on this night to attend one of the largest affairs of the season and was sitting in the library with an open book laid face-down across his knee. After a short chat earlier in the evening, Green had retired to his station across the lawn and Forrester attempted to read. The printed words made little or no impression on his perturbed mind and at length he dropped the book. For over two hours he sat staring out through the open French windows, wholly lost in melancholy thoughts.

Suddenly Forrester was conscious that someone was looking at him through the open window. He started up in alarm just as Prentice strolled into the room.

"Hello!" greeted Prentice. "Did I startle you?"

"Rather," answered Forrester, as he dropped back into his chair. "How the deuce did you get in?"

Prentice raised his eyebrows in surprise. "That's a strange question," he declared. "I just walked in, of course. Why do you look so astonished?"

"Well, you see," explained Forrester, "I have a detective stationed out there on the lawn. He is not supposed to allow anyone to slip in like that."

"He has probably dropped off to sleep," laughed Prentice. "Or perhaps, recognizing me, did not think it necessary to interfere. Are your folks at the dance tonight, Bob?"

"Yes, and I'm a little surprised that you are not there."

"A man of my age, Bob, gets surfeited with such affairs. My wife and daughter are there, however, and I promised to run up with the car and bring them home. In passing, it occurred to me that you might like to go along for the ride on such a warm night. It will give me an opportunity to chat with you, too. You know it has been a long time since we had a confidential talk over things."

"I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Prentice, but I had rather not go. I had quite a battle with Josephine over staying at home. If she found that I had actually come as far as the door after all, there would be high jinks. You know, I seem to be settling down terribly lately."

"You've taken too large and unaccustomed a burden on your shoulders, Bob. Better drop that 'Friends of the Poor' matter. Even the police are not getting anywhere."

"I would not have believed a few weeks ago that criminals could go so far without detection," said Forrester.

Prentice glanced around as though he feared being overheard. Then he addressed Forrester in a low tone. "I've changed my mind about the criminal side of this money drive. I am inclined to believe that it is something more – something of world-wide significance." Then added, in a louder voice, "Well, I must be going on. Good-night, Bob," and he passed out of the window.

Forrester listened to his steps fade away along the terrace and then sat pondering over Green's noninterference with Prentice's approach. It was unusual and peculiar. If the detective were getting careless he was of no further use. Happily, in this instance, it had been only Prentice, but might not one of his enemies come in on him just as easily?

Forrester jumped up and strode across the lawn to the pergola.

"Green!" he called, sharply.

The breeze whispering through the leaves and the splash of tiny wavelets on the beach below were the only sounds Forrester heard. He stepped into the pergola and struck a match. Green was in his chair, but huddled down in a loose and helpless bundle. Forrester shook him without result, though the man's labored breathing showed that he was not dead.

"My God!" cried Forrester. "I believe he has been attacked with the death mask!"

He ran part way to the garage before remembering that the chauffeur was with the car and waiting several miles away to bring Mrs. Forrester and Josephine home. Green must be gotten out of the way before they arrived. Returning to the pergola Forrester placed Green's inert form over his shoulder and carried the detective to his room over the garage. Laying the man carefully on the bed Forrester hurried to the house to telephone.

"Yes," said the doctor, a half-hour later, "I think he will live. We got him just in time. Peculiar thing, Mr. Forrester, how a man can be asphyxiated in the open air – yet this fellow shows every symptom of asphyxia."

"Please don't mention the matter at the house, doctor," requested Forrester. "My mother and sister might be unnecessarily alarmed over it."

"I understand," agreed the doctor. "Mum's the word." Then, turning to William, who had returned and stood in the room, he added, "Are you going to watch him?"

"My wife and I will take turns," replied William.

"Well, if there is a change that does not look favorable, telephone me at once. I'll be back in the morning. Good-night."

—

During the period of Green's convalescence Forrester emerged from his lethargy, passing to the other extreme. He became restless and uneasy. The doctor advised him against discussing any serious matters with Green, stating that the man had received a mental as well as a physical shock and that complete recovery could come only through both mental and bodily rest. Forrester remained away from Green, therefore, and finding himself unable to concentrate upon his reading or to focus his thoughts for any length of time, he spent many hours walking along North Shore roads, or discovering new bypaths through the woods.

On one of these occasions he found himself unexpectedly in the rear of Lucy's cottage. As he retained lingering suspicions of the Jamaica colored woman it seemed to Forrester an opportune time to pay her another visit. He walked around the end of the building through the neglected, weed-grown clearing to the door and knocked. No noisy dog greeted him this time, and in the quiet and gloomy woods the place seemed to exhale an atmosphere of insidious mystery. He knocked twice before Lucy opened the door and stood as he remembered her before – silent, distrustfully observant, her peculiar eyes with their oddly drooping lids vaguely suggestive of furtive evil.

"Good afternoon," Forrester greeted her, cheerfully.