Officer 666 Part 30

"Well, if I wasn't sure Mr. Gladwin was across the Atlantic I'd imagine that yez were Mr. Gladwin himself."

This was said with such laborious canniness that the thief made haste to discover just how the land lay.

"Oh, so you're sure Mr. Gladwin is abroad, eh?"

"Well, I see be the papers."

A real hearty laugh escaped this time, and he added brightly:

"Well, Mr. Policeman, I'll tell you something to help you make a good shrewd guess--_Mr. Gladwin is not abroad_!"

"Then yez are Mr. Gladwin, sorr!" cried the young man eagerly, as if delighted at the discovery.

The other leaned back against the table, crossed one foot over the other and said musingly:

"You found me out, Officer--I must admit it. Permit me to thank you again for looking out for my house, and if you don't mind I'll double this little reward."

Again the roll of bills came out and another $20 gold certificate was gathered in by Officer 666, who grinned as he took it.

"Thank ye, sorr!"

The gesture with which this second benefaction was bestowed was a gesture of dismissal and the bestower set off on an easy saunter about the room, humming a tune.

Officer 666 did not move, and after a moment the other casually remarked:

"You don't seem to be in any hurry to get back to your post, officer."

"No, sorr--I ain't in no hurry."

"Have a cigar, then," and one was offered with the same a.s.sumption of good-natured indifference that had accompanied the tender of the bribes. Gladwin accepted the cigar, took off his cap, dropped it in and returned the cap to his head.

The thief was puzzled for a moment, until it occurred to him that it would suit his purpose best to have this thick-skulled copper in his company rather than have him go outside and discuss the matter with a more shrewd superior. Therefore he said quickly:

"Oh, officer, could you be spared off your rounds for, say, an hour?"

"Why, yes, sorr; I think so."

"Well, I want you to do me a favor. I'll pay you well for it."

"What is it?"

"You look to me like a chap who could keep a secret?"

"That's part o' me trade."

"Good! Well, then, I'm expecting a call from a lady."

"Oh, I see, sorr," and Gladwin forced another fatuous grin.

"No, you don't see," said the other, impressively. "This lady is my fiancee."

"Well, that's your business, sorr."

Gladwin was beginning to enjoy the battle hugely.

"You don't understand," explained the thief. "I'm about to be married."

"Oh, yez are about to be married!" with a slight wince.

"Yes, I'm going to be married to-night--secretly."

"Is that so? Well, I can't help yez about that, can I?"

"Oh, yes, you can, because I want it kept quiet on the lady's account."

"Well, I'll help you keep it quiet _on the lady's account_!" with an emphasis that got away from him, but was misinterpreted.

"Good!" and out came the roll of bills again and another yellow boy was slipped into the greedy palm of Officer 666.

"Thank you, sorr. But what can I do, sorr?"

"I'll show you later on. In the mean time help me take the covers off this furniture and make the place look habitable. Hurry now, for I haven't much time. That's the idea--brisk. Switch on the hall lights--you can find the b.u.t.ton. Then go upstairs and straighten my room."

Gladwin stopped in his activities as if he had run against a wall.

"Your room, sorr?"

"Yes, at the head of the stairs, first door to the left. Then come back here and help me pack."

CHAPTER XXVII.

MISADVENTURES OF WHITNEY BARNES.

Just as it had not occurred to Travers Gladwin to ask Michael Phelan to define the limits of his beat along Fifth avenue so it happened that Whitney Barnes went forth in search of his friend without even the vaguest notion of where he might be found.

It is doubtful if young Mr. Barnes knew what a policeman's beat was.

Certainly he did not conceive of it as a restricted territory.

He had gone about six blocks at his best stride, eagerly scanning both sides of the avenue before the thought came into his mind that he might be going in the wrong direction and that he might keep on indefinitely to the Staten Island ferry and obtain never a glimpse of the borrowed uniform of Officer 666.

"But I must warn the chap," he thought fiercely, "or there will be the very deuce and all to pay."

Whitney slowed down, came to a full stop and was meditatively chewing the head of his cane when an automobile halted at the curb. A head thrust itself out of a window of the limousine and a musical voice asked:

"Why, Mr. Barnes, what are you doing here?"