The butler entered.
"A man to see you, sir," he said.
Gilder made a gesture of irritation, as he sank into the chair at his desk.
"I can't see any one to-night, Thomas," he exclaimed, sharply.
"But he said it was most important, sir," the servant went on.
He held out the tray insistently.
The master took the card grudgingly.As his eyes caught the name, his expression changed slightly.
"Very well," he said, "show him up." His glance met the wondering gaze of his son.
"It's Burke," he explained.
"What on earth can he want--at this time of night?" **** exclaimed.
The father smiled grimly.
"You may as well get used to visits from the police." There was something ghastly in the effort toward playfulness.
A moment later, Inspector Burke entered the room.
"Oh, you're here, too," he said, as his eyes fell on ****.
"That's good.I wanted to see you, too."Inspector Burke was, in fact, much concerned over the situation that had developed.He was a man of undoubted ability, and he took a keen professional pride in his work.He possessed the faults of his class, was not too scrupulous where he saw a safe opportunity to make a snug sum of money through the employment of his official authority, was ready to buckle to those whose influence could help or hinder his ambition.But, in spite of these ordinary defects, he was fond of his work and wishful to excel in it.Thus, Mary Turner had come to be a thorn in his side.She flouted his authority and sustained her incredible effrontery by a restraining order from the court.The thing was outrageous to him, and he set himself to match her cunning.The fact that she had involved **** Gilder within her toils made him the more anxious to overcome her in the strife of resources between them.After much studying, he had at last planned something that, while it would not directly touch Mary herself, would at least serve to intimidate her, and as well make further action easier against her.It was in pursuit of this scheme that he now came to Gilder's house, and the presence of the young man abruptly gave him another idea that might benefit him well.So, he disregarded Gilder's greeting, and went on speaking to the son.
"She's skipped!" he said, triumphantly.
**** made a step forward.His eyes flashed, and there was anger in his voice as he replied:
"I don't believe it."
The Inspector smiled, unperturbed.
"She left this morning for Chicago," he said, lying with a manner that long habit rendered altogether convincing."I told you she'd go." He turned to the father, and spoke with an air of boastful good nature."Now, all you have to do is to get this boy out of the scrape and you'll be all right.""If we only could!" The cry came with deepest earnestness from the lips of Gilder, but there was little hope in his voice.
The Inspector, however, was confident of success, and his tones rang cheerfully as he answered:
"I guess we can find a way to have the marriage annulled, or whatever they do to marriages that don't take."The brutal assurance of the man in thus referring to things that were sacred, moved **** to wrath.
"Don't you interfere," he said.His words were spoken softly, but tensely.
Nevertheless, Burke held to the topic, but an indefinable change in his manner rendered it less offensive to the young man.
"Interfere! Huh!" he ejaculated, grinning broadly."Why, that's what I'm paid to do.Listen to me, son.The minute you begin mixing up with crooks, you ain't in a position to give orders to any one.The crooks have got no rights in the eyes of the police.Just remember that."The Inspector spoke the ****** truth as he knew it from years of experience.The theory of the law is that a presumption of innocence exists until the accused is proven guilty.But the police are out of sympathy with such finical methods.With them, the crook is presumed guilty at the outset of whatever may be charged against him.If need be, there will be proof a-plenty against him--of the sort that the underworld knows to its sorrow.
But **** was not listening.His thoughts were again wholly with the woman he loved, who, as the Inspector declared, had fled from him.
"Where's she gone in Chicago?"
Burke answered in his usual gruff fashion, but with a note of kindliness that was not without its effect on ****.
"I'm no mind-reader," he said."But she's a swell little girl, all right.I've got to hand it to her for that.So, she'll probably stop at the Blackstone--that is, until the Chicago police are tipped off that she is in town."Of a sudden, the face of the young man took on a totally different expression.Where before had been anger, now was a vivid eagerness.He went close to the Inspector, and spoke with intense seriousness.
"Burke," he said, pleadingly, "give me a chance.I'll leave for Chicago in the morning.Give me twenty-four hours start before you begin hounding her."The Inspector regarded the speaker searchingly.His heavy face was drawn in an expression of apparent doubt.Abruptly, then, he smiled acquiescence.
"Seems reasonable," he admitted.
But the father strode to his son.
"No, no, ****," he cried."You shall not go! You shall not go!"Burke, however, shook his head in remonstrance against Gilder's plea.His huge voice came booming, weightily impressive.
"Why not?" he questioned."It's a fair gamble.And, besides, Ilike the boy's nerve."
**** seized on the admission eagerly.
"And you'll agree?" he cried.
"Yes, I'll agree," the Inspector answered.
"Thank you," **** said quietly.
But the father was not content.On the contrary, he went toward the two hurriedly, with a gesture of reproval.
"You shall not go, ****," he declared, imperiously.
The Inspector shot a word of warning to Gilder in an aside that **** could not hear.
"Keep still," he replied."It's all right."**** went on speaking with a seriousness suited to the magnitude of his interests.
