The Man Who Fell Through the Earth

This was so true that we laid the paper aside until the return of our winged Mercury.

She came soon, and waved triumphantly the perforated card she had gone in quest of.

“Here you are!” she cried; “let me try it as a reward for getting it.”

“All right, go to it,” said Wise, and flinging off her cape, Zizi bent over the puzzle.

“It’s it! It’s it!” she cried, exultantly. “See, oh, Wise One!”

The detective took the paper and the card.

“You see,” he said, generously sharing the first sight of the solution with us, “this card has seven holes, at irregular distances. By placing it in the right position on this solid bank of letters, certain ones show through the holes, and these, – I hope, – will spell the message.”

And it did. After re-adjusting the key card several times, Wise finally got it right, and the letters that could be seen through the holes in this card, as he moved it along, spelled coherent words and sentences. Of course, the other letters were not to be used.

He read the message aloud, and as we suspected, it was information concerning the shipment of munitions, and told of certain sailing dates.

“Spy work of the cleverest type,” Wise exclaimed; “you see, ‘The Link’ got her information from stolen telegrams, and recorded it in this way, so it would be unintelligible to anyone not having this card, – or a duplicate of it.”

I scrutinized with interest the letters as they showed clearly through the little round holes.

“The information is of no particular value now,” Wise said; “it refers to yesterday as the sailing date. The point is, that this card, – this key card, was found on – ”

He paused: a glance at Olive’s agonized face stopped the words he would have uttered. But we all knew. That card, found on Amos Gately’s desk, or in his desk drawer, proved that he was implicated in the interception of these messages, that he was guilty of treason to his country!

Wise tried to help matters by saying, hastily, “Perhaps it was a plant! Perhaps this card was put where it was found by some sly scoundrel for the purpose of misleading – ”

“Don’t!” said Olive, faintly; “you are kind, Mr. Wise, but you are saying that merely to give me a ray of comfort and hope. You know better. You believe, – and I fear I must believe, – my guardian was involved in some wrong, some grave wrong – and – ”

She broke down utterly and sobbed in Zizi’s arms which were opened to receive her.

Feeling that our further stay was an intrusion, Rivers and I took leave, and Wise came along with us. We three went down to my rooms, and continued our confab without the embarrassment of Olive’s presence.

“It’s clearing itself up pretty quickly in some respects,” Wise said as he settled himself with a cigar, and passed the box to Rivers. “I’m not so surprised as some at Gately’s perfidy. It seems the Government has been onto him for some time, – at least, they suspected him, and were secretly investigating his private affairs. That Sadie person – ”

“By the way, Wise,” I interrupted him, “you sized her up perfectly! Did you ever hear about that, Rivers? Mr. Wise saw only the girl’s hatpin, and from it he drew an exact portrait of ‘The Link’ herself. How did you do it, Wise? Tell us the details.”

“Like all those deductions it was simpler than it sounded,” the detective said, smiling. “You see, Mr. Rivers, the head of the pin was a big good-looking scarab. I don’t know yet whether it was a real one, but if not it was a first-class imitation. This argued a person of education and taste. The average young woman doesn’t lean toward scarabs. Then, there was a short bit of a human hair caught in the setting. This was black, rather coarse, and strong, denoting a healthy, buxom brunette. Hair is a clear indication of physical appearance, as a rule. That’s how I know you aren’t Amory Manning,” he broke off suddenly and looked at Case Rivers. “I’ve had his description from Miss Raynor and from Brice, here, and they agree that Manning had dark, heavy hair, rather – footballish type. Yours is light, fine, and a little scant. And you have all the characteristics that belong to it. Oh, yes, I admit I’ve been trying to fasten Manning’s identity on you, but without success.”

“Don’t apologize,” laughed Rivers, “I’ve been trying to connect up with the missing Manning myself, but I can’t work it. So, I’m out for the reward for finding that elusive individual. But I fear he’s gone beyond recall.”

“By the way,” Wise put in, “I’ve found out who offers the reward. And, if you please, it’s none other than the United States Government!”

“Why?” Rivers asked, interestedly.

“Well, it seems Manning is, – or was, – a Secret Service man and he was set on the trail of Amos Gately. He worked secretly, of course, and – ”

“And he was kidnaped by Gately’s friends!” I cried; “by some of Rodman’s underlings, and put out of the way! I don’t believe Manning is alive!”

“Go on about the hatpin, Mr. Wise, won’t you?” urged Rivers. “I think I’m going to grow up to be a detective and I’m taking notes.”

“Well,” said Wise, good-humoredly, “as I remember it, I mentioned the lady’s good teeth. This, because the prints on the rather soft gold of the pin were straight and even.”

“You said she was proud of them,” I put in.

“A glittering generality,” and Wise laughed. “Aren’t all girls proud of good teeth? Also, I assumed she had rather flashy tastes, for the scarab, large, and of a bright greenish-blue color, was not a quiet affair. A strong perfume clung to it, which also indicated a certain lack of refinement.”

“And you said untidy habits,” I reminded him.

“Because the pin was bent to a real crookedness. Also, it had been broken and mended. The break proving probable carelessness, and the mending seemed to me to show that she was sentimentally fond of it, for it was skilfully mended and the cost of that would have bought a new one, I should judge. I assumed her to be somewhat intellectual to care so much for a scarab, and I deduced her fairly well off to own and to care for the rather valuable trinket. None of these deductions amounted to much by itself, but the combination helped us to find a way to look for the owner. Of course, the cigarette stubs and the powder-paper helped, too. In fact, Miss Kent left pretty strong evidences of her call on Mr. Gately. But, – she didn’t kill him. Now, who did? We are learning lots of things, but not one shred of evidence have we yet found against any individual as the actual murderer.”

“No,” I agreed. “You see, the shadow of the head that I saw on the glass door couldn’t have been Rodman’s.”

“And so it may have been anybody’s. I mean, it shows that heads look pretty much alike, when merely shadowed on a thick, waved glass.”

“Yes,” I mused, “it may have been anybody’s. But whose? It seems as if we ought to have a suspect by this time.”

“I’ll get you a suspect,” spoke up Case Rivers. “I’m going into this thing for all I’m worth. The way lies through the Rodman crowd. ‘The Link’ sold her information to Rodman and he took it to Gately, but of late, ‘The Link’ became more bold and went straight to Gately herself. Now, there must be others concerned, and an interview with Miss Kent would give us an inkling of who they are. She’s lost some of her bravado, by this time, I’ve no doubt, and I’m going to chase her up. Then, too, I want to go to Mr. Gately’s office. I’ve never been there yet! Don’t think, Wise, that I’m butting in on your game, but sometimes two heads are better than one, if one is a nameless wanderer on the face of the earth.”

“All right, Rivers,” and Wise nodded genially, “go in and win. We’re together on this matter. And when it’s over, I’m going to take up your case, and see just how, when, and where you fell through the earth.”

“I wish you would,” and Rivers looked earnestly at the detective, “for I see that trip every night in my dreams. I see myself falling through – oh, I won’t bore you with that same old story!”

“It doesn’t bore me, but just now we’ll put all our energies on the present puzzle. We must get Gately’s murderer, and then we must get Amory Manning.”

“Zizi says – ” I began.

“I know she does,” returned Wise, looking thoughtful. “Zizi says Manning is the murderer. But the kid has no reason to say it but a hunch. She’s a witch though for hunches, and I keep her idea in mind.”

“No,” and Rivers spoke positively, “it doesn’t seem to me that Manning is the murderer. If he was in the Secret Service, he may be purposely in hiding now, for some reason entirely unconnected with Amos Gately’s murder.”

“Very likely,” assented Wise. “Only, as I say, I often remember Zizi’s notions because they so often pan out correct.”

“She’s a marvel, that child,” said Rivers; “where’d you get her?”

“She’s my model. In civilian life, I’m by way of being an artist, you know. I sketch her over and over, but never have I successfully caught her smile. She’s a witch child, a sprite.”

“Yes; she seems gypsy born. But clever! And of a charm.”

“All that,” agreed Wise. “And a good little thing. Devoted to me, like a faithful dog, and yet, absolutely impersonal. Oh, I couldn’t get along at all without Ziz.”

And almost as he spoke the door opened and Zizi came gliding in. Her mode of entering a room was one of her individual characteristics. She slid in softly and unobtrusively, yet one was at once aware of her. It seemed to electrify the atmosphere, and the place was brighter and more vital in feeling. She moved across the room as quietly as a shadow, she said no word, yet her whole presence spoke.

“Hello, Ziz,” and Wise smiled at her. “Watcha want?”

“Mr. Rivers,” she replied, flashing her black eyes at him. “Miss Olive sent me. And she wants the other crystal.”

“A new mystery?” and Wise laughed. “I can’t see through the other crystal! Has it to do with a pair of glasses?”