The Drums of Jeopardy - Page 40/202

"Bolshevik?"

"For the sake of a handle. They might be Chinamen, for all I know. I can

take care of him until he is on his feet. And you will be saved all this

annoyance.

"But I don't believe it's going to be an annoyance. I'm terribly

interested, and want to see it through."

"If he can be moved, out he goes. No arguments. He can't stay in this

apartment. That's final."

"Exactly why not?" Kitty demanded, rebelliously.

"Because I say so, Kitty."

"Is Stefani Gregor an undesirable?"

"You knew him. What do you say?" countered her godfather, evading the

trap. The innocent child! He smiled inwardly.

Kitty was keen. She sensed an undercurrent, and her first attempt to

touch it had failed. The mere name of Stefani Gregor had not roused

Cutty's astonishment. She was quite positive that the name was not

wholly unfamiliar to her father's friend.

Still, something warned her not to press in this direction. He would be

on the alert. She must wait until he had forgotten the incident. So she

drew up a chair beside the bed and sat down.

Cutty leaned against the footrail, his expression neutral. He sighed

inaudibly. His delightful catnap was over. Stefani Gregor, Kitty's

neighbour, a valet in a fashionable hotel! Stefani Gregor, who, upon

a certain day, had placed the drums of jeopardy in the palms of a war

correspondent known to his familiars as Cutty. And who was this young

man on the bed?

"There goes the bell!" cried Kitty, jumping up.

"Wait!"

The ring was repeated vigorously and impatiently.

"Kitty, I don't quite like the sound of that bell. Harrison would have

no occasion to be impatient. Somebody in a hurry. Now, attend to me. I'm

going to steal out to the kitchen. Don't be afraid. Call if I'm needed.

Open the door just a crack, with your foot against it. If it's Harrison

he'll be in uniform. Call out his name. Slam the door if it is someone

you don't know."

Kitty opened the door as instructed, but she swung it wide because one

of the men outside was a policeman. The man behind him was a thickset,

squat individual, with puffed, discoloured eyes and a nose that reminded

Kitty of an alligator pear.

"What's going on here?" the policeman demanded to know.