The Voice in the Fog - Page 56/93

"Nothing doing yet," he confessed to the anxious manager. "But there

ain't any cause for you t' worry. You're not responsible for jools not

left in th' office."

"That isn't the idea. It's having the thing happen in this hotel.

We'll add another five hundred if you succeed. Not in ten years has

there been so much as a spoon missing. What do you think about it?"

"Big case. I'll be back in a little while. Don't tell th' reporters

anything."

Haggerty was on his way to a near-by chemist whom he knew, when he

espied Crawford in his electric, stalled in a jam at Forty-second and

Broadway. He had not seen the archeologist since his return from

Europe.

"Hey, Mr. Crawford!" Haggerty bawled, putting his head into the window.

"Why, Haggerty, how are you? Can I give you a lift?"

"If it won't trouble you."

"Not at all. Pretty hot weather."

"For my business. Wish I could run off t' th' seashore like you folks.

Heard o' th' Maharajah's emeralds?"

"Yes. You're on that case?"

"Trying t' get on it. Looks blank jus' now. Clever bit o' work;

something new. But I've got news for you, though. Your man Mason is

back here again. I thought I wouldn't say nothing t' you till I put my

hand on his shoulder."

"I'm sorry. I had hoped that the unfortunate devil would have had

sense to remain abroad."

"Then you knew he was over there?"--quickly. "See him?"

"No. I shall never feel anything but sorry for him. You can not live

with a man as I did, for ten years, and not regret his misstep."

"Oh, I understand your side. But that man was a born crook, an' th'

cleverest I ever run up against. For all you know, he may have been

back of a lot o' tricks Central never got hold of. I'll bet that each

time that you went over with him, he took loot an' disposed of it. I

may be pig-headed sometimes, but I'm dead sure o' this. Wait some day

an' see. Say, take a whiff o' this an' tell me what y' think it is."

Haggerty produced the handkerchief.

"I don't smell anything," said Crawford.

Haggerty seized the handkerchief and sniffed, gently, then violently.

All he could smell was reminiscent of washtubs. The mysterious odor

was gone.