Officer 666 Part 41

"All right, officer, but be very careful--I shan't be long."

And turning with a mocking bow to Travers Gladwin, he sauntered out into the hallway and walked into the arms of Police Captain Stone and ten reserves.

CHAPTER x.x.xV.

BATEATO KEEPS HIS PROMISE.

Although the escaping thief was brushed back into the room rather rudely and Travers Gladwin cried out as he caught sight of the uniformed officer and his men, "By Jove, captain, I'm glad you've come," the consummate bluffer did not bat an eyelash or manifest the merest symptom of fear, stepping easily to one side and watching for the coming of his cue with feline alertness.

For a moment Captain Stone devoted himself only to the distribution of his men, posting them at all the windows and doors. When he was satisfied that every avenue of escape was covered he turned to Phelan with the sharp query:

"What's all this, Phelan?"

"I caught them trying to get away with Mr. Gladwin's"----

"Yes, it was by the luckiest chance," broke in Travers Gladwin.

"Is this Mr. Gladwin?" the captain stopped him, curtly.

"No, the other one, captain," replied Phelan, indicating the thief; whereupon that gentleman bowed.

"Why, captain, I'm--" the real Gladwin started again.

"You've done well here, Phelan," the captain complimented him, ignoring the young millionaire.

"Thank ye, sorr," blushed Phelan.

"I should say he has done well." The thief came forward, with an approving nod toward the now ecstatic Officer 666.

"If it hadn't been for him," pursued the thief, "these thieves would have carried off my pictures. I would suggest, captain, that he be properly rewarded."

"Thank ye, sorr." Phelan's voice shook with grat.i.tude.

"I'll see that he gets full credit in my report," said Captain Stone stiffly. "Now, Phelan, you go to the station for the patrol wagon. I sent it back, as one of the horses threw a shoe and got a bad fall.

Tell the driver to get another horse at Murphy's stable and hurry back."

"Yes sorr."

Phelan went out, walking on air and humming to himself, "Sergt.

Michael Phelan, no less," utterly forgetful of the sorry plight he was in not a half hour before.

Travers Gladwin was almost beside himself with chagrin. Again he made an impa.s.sioned plea to be heard.

"Now see here, Captain, _I_ am Travers Gladwin"----

"Oh, you are, eh?" sneered the captain, scarcely deigning to look at him. "Well, we'll see about that. Where is the little j.a.p who notified me of this?"

Bateato had concealed himself behind a heavy piece of furniture and was yanked out into the open by a burly policeman.

"Here you," growled the captain, shaking his hand at the j.a.p, "you're Mr. Gladwin's servant, you said--which one of these men is your master?"

Bateato locked his teeth together and refused even to smile.

"Which is your master? Answer me!" demanded Captain Stone.

"The poor little devil is frightened to death," interposed the thief with a commiserating nod toward the j.a.p. He was playing his bluff to the limit.

"What scared him like that?" asked the captain.

"Oh, this gang here--some of the others got away--threatened to kill him."

"Now look here, Captain--" broke in Gladwin, making furious, yet vain, gestures at Bateato.

"Silence!" Captain Stone cut him off again.

"I admire this chap's nerve, Captain," laughed the thief. "It's monumental. He very nearly succeeded in bluffing Officer Phelan, but I guess you can take care of him all right--I must hurry off and get an expert to repair the damage done to these valuable paintings. Of course, you'll leave a man or two on guard."

Once more he gathered up his stick and overcoat and once more his exit was blocked--this time by Whitney Barnes.

It was only natural for that young man to misread the situation and conceive that Mrs. Elvira Burton had succeeded in her object of arresting his friend. So he blurted breathlessly:

"By Jove, Travers, I see I'm too late. I've been all over the city trying to warn you--I knew the police were on your track."

"Who the devil are you?" Captain Stone cut in on him.

"Another of the gang," responded the thief promptly. "He's got some story trumped up that he thinks will get him off."

"Well, we'll let him tell it then, and you"--indicating the thief--"had better wait and hear it."

There was something in the thief's manner that had fired a spark of suspicion in the officer's mind.

"Not a word about the girl," Travers managed to whisper to Barnes in the moment Captain Stone had turned to address the thief.

"I won't"--Barnes was replying when the Captain flung round on him.

"Stop that whispering, and come over here where I can get a good look at you. Which one of these men is the real Gladwin?"

"He is, of course!" Barnes nodded toward his friend. The truth of the situation had at last dawned upon him.

The thief smiled at Captain Stone and shook his head as if in compliment of the nerve of some criminals.

"H'm," said the captain, turning to Barnes again. "And when did you find out that there was some one else who claimed to be Travers Gladwin?"

"Why," replied Barnes briskly, "when Gladwin and I were here together this afternoon. The doorbell rang and two"----