Officer 666 Part 21

Bateato gripped his mouth with his fingers and stumbled out of the room.

Avoiding the still glowering eye of Officer 666, Travers Gladwin turned to Barnes and attempted to say casually:

"When Bateato gets an idea into his head there is no use arguing with him. There is only one thing to do--don't let him speak."

The young man started to hum a tune and strolled toward the heavily curtained window that looked out on Fifth avenue.

CHAPTER XXI.

TRAVERS GLADWIN GOES IN SEARCH OF HIMSELF.

Policeman Michael Phelan was at first undecided whether to pursue the departing Bateato and arrest him as a suspicious person or to remain on the scene of mystery and get to the bottom of what was going forward.

He chose the latter plan upon the inspiration that if he arrested a millionaire he would get his name in the paper and Rose might read of it and come to some realization of the immensity of his official dignity.

He was further urged to this course by the insolent nonchalance of the two young men. They weren't paying any more attention to him than they were to the inanimate sticks of furniture in the room.

"Well, what did yez send fer me fer?" he broke out again, hurling the words at Travers Gladwin's back.

"I thought you might like a drink," replied that young man, turning slowly and smiling upon the enraged bluecoat.

"I never touch it," shot back Phelan, "an' that's no answer to me question."

Gladwin stared at Phelan steadily a moment, his smile vanis.h.i.+ng. As he measured the officer's height and build an idea came to him. His face lighted as he exclaimed:

"I've got a great idea! Officer, I want you to do me a little favor.

How would you like to make five hundred dollars?"

If he had said four hundred dollars, or even four hundred and fifty, the effect would not have been half so great upon Michael Phelan. The mention of an even five hundred dollars, though, was the open sesame to the very depths of his emotions. Five hundred dollars represented the talisman that would lead him safe through Purgatory into the land of sweet enchantments. The fires of his wrath were instantly cooled and he said feebly:

"Are yez tryin' to bribe me?"

"Not at all, sergeant," said the young man gravely.

"I ain't no sergeant," Phelan retorted.

"All right, lieutenant," laughed Gladwin, his good humor increasing as his sudden idea took shape in his mind.

"Don't call me lieutenant," said Phelan, with a return of temper.

"Well, it's this way, captain."

"Nix on the promotion stuff," shot back Phelan, the consciousness returning that he was being kidded. "I'm patrolman and me name is Michael Phelan, and I'm onto me job--mind that!"

"No offense, officer," Gladwin hurried on. "I'm sure you're onto your job. No one could look at you and doubt that--but I'll give you five hundred dollars if you'll lend me your uniform for awhile."

"Fi--fi--uni--say, what kind of a game are youse up to?"

Two big events in Phelan's life had blazed their films upon his memory in a blinding flash. First there was Rose, and then there was that nightmare of a Coroner's case, when he had fled hatless and coatless down the stairs of a reeking east side tenement, pursued by the yells of a shrieking "corpse."

"It's no game--it's a joke," replied Gladwin.

Whitney Barnes, who had been listening eagerly and had sensed Gladwin's inspiration, chimed in:

"Yes, officer; it's a joke."

"Yez are offering me five hundred dollars for a joke?" said the flabbergasted Phelan.

"That's it," returned Gladwin. "I want to take your place; I want to become"--stepping forward to read the number on Phelan's s.h.i.+eld--"Officer 666 for a little while."

Phelan couldn't believe his ears. Stepping to one side he said behind his hand to Barnes:

"This feller's off his dip. Don't he know that if I lent him me uniform it'd be me finish."

"That's all right," spoke up Gladwin. "I'll guarantee to protect you.

No one will ever know about it. You'll never make five hundred so easy again."

"S-s-say," stammered Phelan, "what's this all about?"

"Well, I've found out that a thief is going to break in here to-night."

"A thief!" gasped the policeman.

"Yes, just for a joke, you know."

"A thief going to break in here for a joke!" yelled Phelan. "Now I know you're batty."

"Not a regular thief," the young man corrected hastily. "He's a friend of mine--and I want to be waiting in your uniform when he comes. I want to nab him. The joke will be on him, then, you know."

"All very simple, you see," added Barnes.

"Simple as--no, I don't see," snarled Phelan. "The two of yez is bugs."

"But you will see," went on Gladwin, "if you'll let me explain. In order to be a policeman I've got to have a uniform, haven't I?"

"Of course he has," urged Barnes.

"And yez are offering me five hundred dollars for a joke?"

Phelan dropped his arms limply at his side and permitted his eyes to bulge _ad lib_.

"That's it," cried Gladwin. "I a.s.sure you it is nothing serious or criminal. I just want your uniform long enough to catch my friend and I'll give you five hundred dollars for lending it to me."

"It's too big a risk," panted Phelan, producing an elaborate bandana and mopping his brow. "I won't do it."