Yours,
Naïa.
* * * * *
As he sat there in his studio, perplexed, amazed, annoyed, yet
curious, trying to think out what he ought to do--what, in fact, must
be done somehow or other--there came a ring at his door bell. A
messenger with a cable despatch stood there; Neeland signed, tore open
the envelope, and read: * * * * * Please go at once to Brookhollow and secure an olive-wood box bound
with silver, containing military maps, plans, photographs, and papers
written in German, property of Ruhannah Carew. Lose no time, I implore
you, as an attempt to rob the house and steal the papers is likely.
Beware of anybody resembling a German. Have written, but beg you not
to wait for letter.
Naïa.
* * * * *
Twice he reread the cablegram. Then, with a half-bewildered,
half-disgusted glance around at his studio, his belongings, the
unfinished work on his easel, he went to the telephone.
It being July he had little difficulty in reserving a good stateroom
on the Cunarder Volhynia, sailing the following day. Then, summoning
the janitor, he packed a steamer trunk and gave order to have it taken
aboard that evening.
On his way downtown to his bank he stopped at a telegraph and cable
office and sent a cable message to the Princess Mistchenka. The text
consisted of only one word: "Blue."
He departed for Gayfield on the five o'clock afternoon train, carrying
with him a suitcase and an automatic pistol in his breast pocket.