The Man Who Fell Through the Earth

“When did he last come into his offices before – before he disappeared?”

“When did he, Jenny? Speak up, girl, and tell the Chief all you know about it.”

Although Martin had not addressed Jenny, he turned to her now as if inviting her story.

And Jenny bridled, shook out her feather boa, made a futile attempt to pull her brief skirt a trifle farther down toward a silk-stockinged ankle, and began:

“Of course, when Mr. Gately went into his office he most gen’ally went in the middle door, right into his pers’nal office. He didn’t go through my room. And, so, yest’day, he went in the middle door, but right away, almost, he opened my door and stuck his head in, and says, ‘Don’t let anybody in to see me this afternoon, unless you come and ask me first.’”

“Wasn’t this a general rule?”

“’Most always; but sometimes somebody I’d know’d come, like Mr. Talcott or Miss Olive, and they’d just nod or smile at me and walk right in at Mr. Gately’s door. So I says, ‘Yes, sir,’ and I looked sharp that nobody rushed me. Mr. Gately, he trusted me, and I was careful to do just what he said, always.”

“Well, go on. Who called?”

“First, Mr. Smith; and then Mrs. Driggs; and after them, Miss Olive.”

“Miss Raynor?”

“Yes, of course!” and Jenny spoke flippantly. “I even announced her, ’cause I had strick orders. Miss Olive, she just laughed and waited till I come back and said she might go in.”

“What time was this?”

“Couldn’t say for sure. ’Long about two or three, I guess.”

Jenny was assiduously chewing gum, and her manner was far from deferential, which annoyed the Chief.

“Try to remember more nearly,” he said, sharply. “Was Miss Raynor there before or after the other two callers you mentioned?”

“Well, now, it’s awful hard to tell that.” Jenny cocked her head on one side, and indulged in what she doubtless considered most fetching eye-play. “I ain’t a two-legged time-table!”

“Be careful,” advised the Chief. “I want straight answers, not foolishness, from you.”

Jenny sulked. “I’m givin’ it to you as straight’s I can, Mr. Chief. Honest to goodness, I don’t know if Miss Olive was just before the Driggs hen or after her!”

“Also, be more careful of your choice of words. Did Mrs. Driggs go back through your room when she left?”

“Yes, I guess she did, – but, – lemmesee, no, I guess she didn’t either.”

“Isn’t your memory very short?”

“For such trifles, yes, sir. But I can remember lots of things real easy. I’ve got a date now, with – ”

“Stop! If you don’t look out, young woman, you’ll be locked up!”

“Behave pretty, now, Jenny girl,” urged her father, who was quite evidently the slave of his resplendent offspring; “don’t be flip; this here’s no place for such-like manners.”

“You’re right, it isn’t,” agreed the Chief, and he glared at Jenny, who was utterly unmoved by his sternness.

“Well, ain’t I behaving pretty?” and the silly thing giggled archly and folded her hands with an air of mock meekness.

Continued harsh words from the Chief, however, made her at last tell a straight and coherent story, but it threw no light on the mysterious caller. In fact, Jenny knew nothing whatever of him, save that she saw or thought she saw him run downstairs, with a pistol in his hand.

“What sort of hat did the man wear?” asked the Chief, to get some sort of description.

“I don’t know, – a soft hat, I guess.”

“Not a Derby?”

“Oh, yes! I do believe it was a Derby! And he had on an overcoat – ”

“A dark one?”

“No, – sort of – oh, I guess it wasn’t an overcoat, – but a, you know, Norfolk jacket, like.”

“A Norfolk, and no overcoat on a day like yesterday! I don’t believe you saw any man at all, Jenny!”

“Do you know, that’s what I think sometimes, Mr. Chief! It almost seems’s if I dreamed it.”

“What do you mean! Don’t you dare guy me, miss!”

“I’m not,” and Jenny’s saucy face looked serious enough now. “But it was all so fearful sudden, and I was so struck all of a heap, that I just can’t say what was so and what wasn’t!”

“That does seem to be your difficulty. You sit over there and think the matter over, while I talk to your sister.”

Minny, a quiet, pretty girl, was as reticent as Jenny was voluble. But after all, she had little to tell. She had brought no one up in her elevator to see Mr. Gately beside Miss Raynor that she knew of except the man named Smith and Mrs. Driggs.

“Did these people all go down in your car, too?”

“I’m not sure. The cars were fairly crowded, and I know Miss Raynor did not, but I’m not so sure about the others.”

Well, Minny’s evidence amounted to nothing, either, for though she told of several strangers who got on or off her car at various floors, she knew nothing about them, and they could not be traced.

The three Boyds were quizzed a little more and then old Joe Boyd, the father, and Minny were allowed to go back to their respective posts, but the Chief held Jenny for further grilling. He had a hope, I felt sure, that he could get from her some hint of Mr. Gately’s personal affairs. He had heard of the hatpin, and though he hadn’t yet mentioned it definitely, I knew he was satisfied it was not Miss Raynor’s, and he meant to put Jenny through a mild sort of third degree.

I was about to depart, for I knew I would not be invited to this session, and, too, I could learn the result later.

Then an officer came in, and after a whispered word to Chief Martin they beckoned to me.

“Do you know Amory Manning?” the Chief inquired.

“I met him yesterday for the first time,” I replied, “but I have known of him before.”

“Where does he live?”

“Up around Gramercy Park somewhere, I think.”

“That’s right, he does. Well, the man is missing.”