The Pawns Count Part 10

"Look here," he said, "you'll forgive me if I repeat myself and ask you once more--what the h.e.l.l has all this got to do with you?"

"Just this much," Lutchester replied, "that I insist upon your taking the course of action in this matter which I propose."

"You mean," Graham protested, working himself gradually into a state of wrath, "that I am to go back to my rooms as though nothing had happened, see Holderness and the others to-morrow, and not have a word of explanation to offer? That I am to leave those blackguards at Henry's to try their dirty games on some one else, and let Fischer, the man who was fully inclined to become my murderer, go away unharmed? I think not, Mr. Lutchester. I am much obliged for your help, but you are talking piffle."

"What do you propose to do, then?"

"I am going round to Scotland Yard myself."

Lutchester rose to his feet.

"Stay where you are for a minute, please," he begged.

He pa.s.sed into a smaller room, and Graham could hear faintly the sound of the telephone. In a minute or two his host returned.

"Go in there and speak, Graham," he invited. "You will find some one you know at the other end."

Graham did as he was bidden, and Lutchester closed the door after him.

For a few minutes the latter sat in his chair, smoking quietly, his eyes fixed upon the fire. Then his unwilling guest reappeared. He came into the room a little unsteadily and looked with new eyes at the man who seemed so unaccountably to have taken over the control of his affairs.

"I don't understand all this," he muttered. "Who the devil are you, anyway, Lutchester?"

"A very ordinary person, I can a.s.sure you," was the quiet reply.

"However, you are satisfied, I suppose, that my advice is good?"

"Yes, I am satisfied," Graham answered nervously. "You know that--that I'm under arrest?"

Lutchester nodded.

"Well, you're not asking for my sympathy, I suppose?" he observed drily.

The young man flushed.

"I know that I behaved like a fool," he admitted. "All the same, I've been working night and day for weeks on this problem. I haven't even been up to town once. I must say I think they seem inclined to be a little hard on me."

"No one is going to be in the least hard on you," Lutchester a.s.sured him. "You have committed a frightful indiscretion, and all that is asked of you now is to keep your mouth shut. If you do that, I think a way will be found for you out of your troubles."

"But what is to become of me?" Graham demanded.

"I understand that you are to be taken to Northumberland to-morrow,"

Lutchester informed him. "There you will be allowed every facility for fresh experiments. In the meantime, I have promised to give you a shakedown here for the night. You will find a soldier on guard outside your door, but you can treat him as your servant."

"You are very kind," Graham faltered, a little vaguely. "If only I could understand--"

Lutchester rose to his feet. His manner became more serious, his tone had in it a note of finality.

"Captain Graham," he interrupted, "don't try to understand. I will tell you as much as this, if it helps you. Henry's Restaurant will be placed under the closest surveillance, but we wish nothing disturbed there at the moment until we have discovered the future plans of Mr. Oscar Fischer."

"The big German-American," Graham muttered. "He's the man you ought to get hold of."

"Some day I hope that we may," Lutchester declared. "For the moment, however, we want him undisturbed. You would scarcely believe it, perhaps, if I told you that the theft of your formulas is only a slight thing compared to the bigger business that man has on hand. There is something else at the back of his head which is worth heaven and earth to us to understand. We want the formula and we shall have it, but more than anything else in the world we want to know why Fischer has pledged his word in Berlin to bring this war to an end within three months. We have to find that out, and we are going to find it out--from him. You see, I have treated you with confidence, Captain Graham. Now let me show you to your room." Graham put his hand to his forehead.

"I feel as though this were some sort of nightmare," he muttered. "I've known you for several months, Mr. Lutchester, and I have never heard you say a serious word. You dance at Henry's; you made a good soldier, they said, but you'd had enough of it in twelve months; you play auction bridge in the afternoons; and you talk about the war as though it were simply an irritating circ.u.mstance. And to-night--"

Lutchester threw open the door of his own bedroom and pointed to the bathroom beyond.

"My man has put out everything he thinks you may want," he said. "Try and get a good night's sleep. And, Graham."

"Yes?"

"Don't bother your head about me, and don't ask any more questions."

CHAPTER VII

The _Lapland_ was two days out from Tilbury before Pamela appeared on deck, followed by her maid with an armful of cus.h.i.+ons, and the deck steward with her rugs. She had scarcely made herself comfortable in a sunny corner when she was aware of the approach of a large, familiar figure. Her astonishment was entirely genuine.

"Mr. Fischer!" she exclaimed. "Why, how on earth did you catch this steamer? I thought you were coming on the Thursday boat?"

"Some inducement to change my mind," Mr. Fischer replied, drawing a chair up to her side.

"Meaning me?"

"I guess that's so!"

"Of course, I'm exceedingly flattered," Pamela observed, "or rather I should be if I believed you, but I don't see how you could leave a supper-party at Henry's and go straight to Tilbury."

"Say, how did you know I was supping at Henry's?" he inquired.

"Because I was there for luncheon myself, as you know," she answered carelessly, "and I heard you order your table for supper."

Mr. Fischer nodded reminiscently.

"I always wind up with a little supper at Henry's, on my last night in London," he remarked. "It left me two hours to get down to Tilbury, but it don't take me long to start for anywhere when I once make up my mind. That's the American of us, I suppose. Besides, I never need much in the way of luggage. I keep clothes over on the other side and clothes in New York, and a grip always ready packed for a journey."

"You're so typical," she murmured, smiling.

"I don't know about that," he replied. "My business makes it necessary for me to be always on the go. Have you heard from your brother lately?"

Pamela shook her head.

"Jimmy is the most terrible correspondent," she complained. "I don't think I've had any mail from him for two months."

"You didn't know that he and I were sharing rooms together, then, in the Plaza Hotel, I suppose?"

Pamela turned her head a little and gazed at her companion in genuine surprise.