The Brand of Silence: A Detective Story, Johnston McCulley [novels in english TXT] 📗

you nothing more," she declared. "It would not be fair to them."

"But they have Jim Farland, and Heaven knows what they are doing to him, simply because he will not turn against me. Is it fair to Jim Farland's wife and child?"

"I—I am being kept informed," she assured him. "If they treat Mr. Farland badly, or detain him much longer, I shall speak. But until then, I have nothing to say. You see, Mr. Prale, I cannot believe that you are innocent and have been misjudged. The evidence against you is so conclusive, and I have learned to hate you as the man who betrayed his benefactor and friends and wrecked my father's health. But, if you are innocent, I hope that you will forgive me."

"I'll forgive you gladly," said Sidney Prale. "I realize what you must have suffered, and what your father must have suffered, too. I am going to prove my innocence; and then I hope to claim you as one of my friends."

"I am sorry that I cannot believe you," she said again, "although I would like to. I would prefer to think that no man could be so ungrateful as to do such a thing. I'd like to have my faith in human nature restored. If you prove your innocence, I shall be very glad indeed!"

Then she called for Marie, and when the maid came from the adjoining room, Sidney Prale ushered the two women to the door and watched as they went down the hall toward the elevator. But Kate Gilbert did not glance back.

CHAPTER XXIV HIGH-HANDED METHODS

Sidney Prale closed the door and turned around to face a grinning Murk.

"Some pair of chickens!" Murk said. "That Marie girl may be a bear for size and strength, but she's got a lot of good common sense. I'm strong for her!"

"Sit down!" Prale commanded.

And then, walking up and down across the room, he told Murk what Kate Gilbert had revealed to him, simply because he felt that he had to tell it to somebody.

"How is that for a dirty deal, Murk?" he asked when he had finished. "Doesn't that make ordinary dirty work look rather pale?"

"Who did it, boss? Name the gent, and I'll get his address out of the city directory and pay him a visit!" Murk said. "I'll have some things to say to him—and some things to do, maybe."

"I'm a sort of husky individual myself, Murk, and, if I knew him, I think I'd beat you to it," Prale replied. "Now we must get busy!"

"Just say the word, Mr. Prale. What is it to be?"

"I haven't quite decided yet, Murk. How far will you go?"

"I'll croak him, if it's necessary!"

"That'd be a bit too far, Murk, and might lead to the electric chair and a far country. Let's take a walk and think it over. We will confine ourselves to the Avenue, and you may trail me as before. I scarcely think they'll assault us on the Avenue."

Ten minutes later, Sidney Prale was walking down the street, and the faithful Murk was trailing in his wake, watching carefully. That walk lasted for an hour. Then they returned to the hotel and Prale ordered an early dinner. He did not say what he had decided to do, despite Murk's hints that he should state his plans.

But Murk had noticed that Prale had stopped in at a printing office during the walk, and shortly after they finished dinner, a bell boy brought a small package to the suite. Prale unwrapped it, and some cards spilled out.

"Nice cards, Murk," he said. "I had them printed this afternoon. They bear the name of Horace Greenman, whoever he may be, and state that he is connected with the General Utilities Company—whatever that is."

"What's the big idea, Mr. Prale?" Murk asked wonderingly.

"I wish to get into a certain place, Murk, and I'd never do it if I send in my own card. What time is it?"

"A few minutes of eight, sir."

"Then we'll be going. Let us hope that we find our man at home. If this happens to be his opera or theater evening, we are going to be delayed."

Murk followed him down in the elevator and to the street, where Prale engaged a taxicab. The machine took them up past the Park and to an exclusive residence section, where it stopped on a corner. Prale and Murk got out, and Prale instructed the chauffeur to wait. Then he led the way to the middle of the block.

"Murk, you remain just outside this gate," he instructed. "If I have good luck, I'll come out with a man, and I may want to take him with us. Be ready to help in case I get in wrong."

"Sure thing, sir," Murk said.

Prale passed through the gate, went up the walk, and lifted the knocker on the front door. A moment, and a servant appeared and looked at him searchingly.

"I wish to see Mr. Griffin at once on important business," Prale said. "Kindly take my card to him."

Then Prale waited with his heart in his mouth. Was Griffin at home? The servant instantly assured him of that, and carried the card away. Prale had written "Important Business" on it.

The servant returned soon and announced that Mr. Griffin would see the visitor. Prale followed him down the hall to the library. He was glad that Griffin had chosen to receive him there, for there was less likelihood of an interruption. The servant opened the door, and Sidney Prale stepped inside.

Griffin was sitting beside the long table, and he arose immediately and turned.

"You!" he gasped.

"Pardon the deception——"

"James! James!" Griffin thundered.

The servant was in the room instantly.

"Show this fellow the door!" Griffin commanded. "Look at him well, and never admit him again!"

James took a step forward and indicated the door. But Sidney Prale reached into the pocket of his coat, drew out an automatic pistol, and held it menacingly.

"Close the door, James—softly!" he commanded in a stern voice. "Now advance to the table and stand where I can watch you. Don't you make a move, Mr. Griffin! I used to handle men down in Honduras, and I feel confident that I can take care of this situation."

"You thug!" Griffin cried. "I'll have you sent up for this, Prale, if it's the last thing I do!"

"I know that it is against the law to be carrying a gun without a permit, but this situation demands a show of force," Prale said. "I merely want you to listen to me for a moment, Mr. Griffin."

"I don't want to hear anything you may have to say to me, Sidney Prale!" the financier said.

"You are going to hear it, nevertheless! Mr. Griffin, I did not know until this afternoon why I had secret enemies and why they were trying to cause me endless trouble. Miss Kate Gilbert was kind enough to enlighten me."

"Well, sir?"

"I am sorry that you believe me guilty of such base ingratitude to you and of such dishonorable conduct, for I am not guilty, Mr. Griffin! You were like a father to me—which was enough to compel my loyalty—and, aside from that, you had taught me several things regarding honor in business deals. I went away on the spur of the moment because a woman had jilted me. But before I went, I did not betray you and your associates."

"A likely story!"

"But a true one, Mr. Griffin! I did not sell you out for a hundred thousand dollars or any other sum. My conscience is clear, and I came back to New York expecting to greet old friends and have a pleasant time. You know what I found instead of that happy state of affairs. I am not here to talk at length. I demand a chance to prove my innocence!"

"How can you do the impossible, sir?"

"It is not the impossible, Mr. Griffin! I intend to prove to you that I was not disloyal, and then I shall prove that I had nothing to do with the murder of Rufus Shepley. I have an idea, sir, what is behind all this."

"We are wasting time——"

"I think not, sir! Time is not wasted in which a man shows that he is not a scoundrel! I think you owe it to me to give me a chance. You have condemned me unheard."

"I would give almost anything to have you prove your innocence," Griffin said. "You don't know how it hurt me. But the case against you was so strong—and is so strong——"

"Let us waste no more time," Prale said. "I remember the details of the big deal that was under way when I left New York ten years ago. If you recall, sir, I helped plan the campaign. If I can look at papers in your office, I think I can show that I am not guilty."

"I'd like to believe you, but this is preposterous!" Griffin cried. "I tell you the evidence——"

"It probably was strong, because the guilty man wanted to make it so. Mr. Griffin, were I guilty I should not be here. Please give me a few minutes, and let us talk this over. Then, if you wish, we can go to your office and continue the investigation."

Griffin sat down and motioned for Sidney Prale to do the same. Prale returned the automatic to his pocket, much to the relief of the servant.

Murk, standing outside by the gate, paced back and forth and wondered whether he should attempt to take the house by storm and rescue his employer. The chauffeur, waiting at the corner, wondered whether his fare had slipped down the next street without paying the bill. Murk relieved him on that point and threatened to beat him up because he intimated that Prale might do such a thing.

It was more than two hours later when Prale left the house and went out to the street. He paid the chauffeur and dismissed him, and told Murk to return to the hotel. Then he went back into the house and joined Mr. Griffin again, and after Griffin had telephoned several persons, he ordered his car, got into it with Prale, and started downtown.

An astonished watchman took them up in an elevator in an office building in the financial district, and a little later he took up several other gentlemen.

"Them financiers make me sick!" the watchman told himself. "Why can't they lay their schemes in the daytime?"

It was almost dawn when they left the building and scattered. They had spent hours investigating books and papers. Sidney Prale had even sent a messenger to the hotel with an order to Murk for certain books and papers of his own, and these had been investigated, too.

"And there we are, gentlemen," Prale had said, at the last. "I have shown you, I think, that I did not do this thing. I do not want you to believe me fully until I have proved my innocence by revealing the man who is guilty. I merely ask you to give me a fair chance to prove my case. I have told you my suspicions. Now it is up to me to demonstrate whether they are just or worthless."

Griffin had little to say as they rode back uptown. But when he dropped Prale at the hotel just before daylight, he gripped him by the hand.

"I want to believe you, Sidney!" he said. "I hope that you have told me the truth. If you have, I hope you'll be able to clear yourself. If you only can show me that the boy I was glad to help was not ungrateful, after all——"

"I'll do it, sir!"

"And then I'll never forgive myself, Sidney!"

"You'll show your forgiveness by handling my affairs for me, sir, in that event, and by treating me as your son again!" Prale said.

He hurried up to the suite. Murk had been sleeping in a chair in the living room, as if expecting a call at any moment. He was somewhat startled to hear Sidney Prale whistling merrily at four o'clock in the morning.

CHAPTER XXV AN ACCUSATION

Springing toward him, the masked man stopped two feet from the bound Jim Farland.

"So you think you know me, do you?" he snarled.

"I have a pretty good idea," Farland said. "There are only a few men in the city, to my knowledge, who could be hired to do work like this, and it occurs to me that I have seen those hands of yours before. I think your face is in the rogues' gallery, too, if you want to know!"

The masked man retreated for a few feet, evidently relieved.

"So you'll not make terms with me," he said. "You'd rather work for Sidney Prale, would you? Perhaps we can change your mind."

"I doubt that like blazes!"

"You are going to be kept