Under Cover Part 50

"Wait a minute," Taylor said irritably. "What's all this got to do with you? I admit we made a mistake--I'll take the blame for it--and we're sorry. We can't remedy it by talking any more. Come on, boys."

"Wait just a minute," Denby exclaimed. "Don't you know," he went on, addressing himself to the two subordinate officials, "that it's rather a dangerous thing to monkey with the United States Government? It's a pretty big thing to fool with. You might have got into serious trouble arresting the wrong man."

"I haven't been monkeying with the Government," Gibbs said nervously.

All his official carelessness recurred to him vividly. "I wouldn't do a thing like that."

"Neither have I," Duncan made eager reply.

Taylor took a hand in the conversation. "That's all settled," he said, with an air of finality. "We all know Mr. Denby never had a necklace."

"That's clearly understood, is it?" Denby returned.

"What I say is right," Taylor retorted, and glared at his underlings.

"What the Chief says is right," Gibbs admitted with eagerness.

"What the Chief says is wrong," Denby cried in a different voice. "I did smuggle a necklace in through the Customs to-day. Here it is."

They looked at it in consternation. "What!" they e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed.

Taylor had owed his safety ere this to rapid thinking.

"Then you're under arrest!" he cried.

"Oh, no I'm not," Denby rejoined, turning to the startled men. "Your chief caught me with the goods and I paid him thirty thousand dollars to square it."

Taylor came at him with upraised fist. "Why, you--" he roared, "I'll--"

Denby seized the clenched fist and thrust it aside. "You won't," he said calmly; "you're only a bully after all, Taylor. You couldn't graft on your own--you had to drag a girl into it, and you've made me do some pretty rotten things to-night to land you. I've had to make that girl suffer, but you'll pay for it. I've got you now, and you're under arrest."

"Aw, quit your bluffing," Taylor jeered; "you can't arrest me, Denby."

"The man who'll arrest you is named Jones," Denby remarked.

"Who the h.e.l.l is he?" Taylor cried.

"Ah, yes," Denby admitted. "I forgot that you hadn't met him officially and that the boys don't know who he is either. Here's my commission."

Gibbs stared at the doc.u.ment ravenously. "And that's my photograph,"

Denby added. "A pretty good likeness it's usually considered."

Duncan was now at his comrade's side, poring over it. "It sure is," he agreed.

"This thing," said Gibbs the discoverer, "is made out in the name of Richard Jones!"

"Well, do you get the initials?" Denby queried.

"R. J.," Gibbs read out as one might mystic things without meaning.

"That's me," Denby smiled, "R. J. of the secret service. That's the name I'm known by."

Gibbs offered his hand. "If you're R. J.," he said admiringly, "I'd like to shake hands with you. Are you, on the level, R. J.?"

"I'm afraid I am," the other admitted.

"It's a lie," Taylor shouted.

Denby pointed to the paper. "You can't get away from that signature.

It's signed by the President of the United States."

"I tell you it's a fake," the man cried angrily.

"They don't seem to think so," Denby remarked equably.

"This is on the level, all right," Duncan announced after prolonged scrutiny.

Denby turned to the deputy-surveyor.

"Taylor," he said gravely, "for three years the Government has been trying to land the big blackmailer in the Customs. They brought me into it and I set a trap with a necklace as a bait. The whole thing was a plant from Harlow's tip, the telegram I sent myself this afternoon, to the accidental dropping of the pearls, so that you could see them through the screen. You walked right into it, Taylor. Twice before you came and looked into other traps and had some sort of intuition and kept out of them. This time, Taylor, it worked."

"You can't get away with that," Taylor said threateningly. "I'm not going to listen to this."

"Wait a minute," Denby advised him. "You've been in the service long enough to know that the rough stuff won't go. You'd only get the worst of it; so take things easily."

He smiled pleasantly at the other men. "I'm glad to find you boys weren't in on this. Take him along with you, and this, too." He tossed the necklace on the table from which it slid to the floor at Gibbs'

feet.

Gibbs made a quick step forward to recover it, but trod on part of the string and crushed many of the stones. Poor Gibbs looked at the damage he had done aghast. If the thing were worth two hundred thousand dollars, a ponderous calculation forced the dreadful knowledge upon him that he had destroyed possibly a quarter of them. Fifty thousand dollars! Tears came to his eyes. "Honest to goodness," he groaned, looking imploringly at the august R. J., "I couldn't help it."

"Don't worry," Denby laughed. "They're fakes. Take what's left as Exhibit A."

Gibbs recovered his ease of manner quickly and took a few steps nearer the fallen Chief. "And to think I've been working for a crook two years and never knew it," he said, with a childlike air of wonder.

Taylor looked at Denby with rage and despair.

"d.a.m.n you," he exploded, "you've got me all right, but I'll send that girl and her sister up the river. You're stuck on her and I'll get even that way."

Even in his fury he remarked that this threat did not disturb the man in the least. He saw the girl blanch and hide her face, but this cursed meddling R. J., as he called himself, only smiled.

"I think not," Denby returned. "You forget that Mr. Harrington is vice-president of the New York Burglar Insurance Company and a friend of the late Mr. Vernon Cartwright. I hardly think he will allow a little matter like that to come into public notice. In fact, I've seen him about it already."

"Oh, get me out of this," Taylor cried in disgust.

"Just a minute," Denby commanded. "I'll trouble you for that thirty thousand dollars."

"You think of everything, don't you?" Taylor snarled, handing it back.

"Is that a fake, too?"

"Oh, no," he was told, "I borrowed that from Monty, who's been a great help to me in this little scheme as an amateur partner."