The Man Who Fell Through the Earth Page 11

  CHAPTER XI Case Rivers

  So absorbed was I in the new interests that had come into my life, soanxious to be of assistance to Olive Raynor, and so curious to watch theprocedure of Pennington Wise, that I confess I forgot all about the poorchap I had seen at Bellevue Hospital,--the man who "fell through theearth"! And I'm not sure I should ever have thought of him again, save asa fleeting memory, if I hadn't received a letter from him.

  My dear Brice [he wrote]: I've no right to pilfer your time, but if you have a few minutes to squander, I wish you'd give them to me. I'm about to be discharged from the hospital, with a clean bill of health,--but with no hint or clew as to my cherished identity. The doctors--drat 'em!--say that some day my memory will spring, full-armed, back at me, but meanwhile, I must just sit tight and wait. Not being of a patient disposition, I'm going to get busy at acquiring a new identity, then, if the old one ever does spring a come-back, I'll have two,--and can lead a double life! No, I'm not flippant, I'm philosophical. Well, if your offer didn't have a string tied to it come in to see me,--please.

  Sincerely yours, Case Rivers.

  P.S.--The doctors look upon me as a very important and interesting case,--hence my name.

  I smiled at the note, and as I had taken a liking to the man from thestart, I went at once to see him.

  "No," I assured him, after receiving his cordial welcome, "my offer hadno string attached. I'm more than ready to help in any way I can, to finda niche for you in this old town and fit you into it. It doesn't matterwhere you hail from, or how you got here; New York is an all-comers'race, and the devil take the hindmost."

  "He won't get me, then," and Rivers nodded his head determinedly; "I maynot be in the van, just at first, but give me half a chance, and I'llmake good!"

  This was not bumptiousness or braggadocio, I could see, but an earnestdetermination. The man was sincere and he had a certain doggedness ofpurpose, which was evident in his looks and manner as well as in hiswords.

  Rivers was up and dressed now, and I saw he was a good-looking chap. Hislight-brown hair was carefully parted and brushed; his smooth-shaven facewas thin and pale, but showed strong lines of character. He had beenfitted with glasses,--a _pince-nez_, held by a tiny gold chain over oneear,--and this corrected the vacant look in his eyes. His clothes wereinexpensive and quite unmistakably ready-made.

  He was apologetic. "I'd rather have better duds," he said, "but as I hadto borrow money to clothe myself at all, I didn't want to splurge. Onedoctor here is a brick! He's going to follow up my 'case,' and so Iaccepted his loan. It's a fearful predicament to be a live, grown-up man,without a cent to your name!"

  "Let me be your banker," I offered, in all sincerity; "I----"

  "No; I don't want coin so much as I want a way to earn some. Now, ifyou'll put me in the way of getting work,--anything that pays prettywell,--I'll be obliged, sir, and I'll be on my way."

  His smile was of that frank, chummy sort that makes for sympathy and Iagreed to help him in any way I could think of.

  "What can you do?" I asked, preliminarily.

  "Dunno. Have to investigate myself, and learn what are my latent talents.Doubtless their name is legion. But I've nailed one of them. I can draw!Witness these masterpieces!"

  He held up some sheets of scribble paper on which I saw several carefuland well-done mechanical drawings.

  "You were a draughtsman!" I exclaimed, "in that lost life of yours."

  "I don't know. I may have been. Anyway, these things are all right."

  "What are they?"

  "Not much of anything. They're sort of designs for wall-paper oroilcloth. See? Merely suggestions, you know, but this one, repeated,would make a ripping study for a two-toned paper."

  "You're right," I exclaimed, in admiration of the pattern. "You must havebeen a designer of such things."

  "No matter what I _was_,--the thing is what can I be now, to take myplace in the economic world. These are, do you see, adaptations from snowcrystals."

  "So they are! It takes me back to my school days."

  "Perhaps I'm harking back to those, too. I remember the pictures of snowcrystals in 'Steele's Fourteen Weeks in Natural Science.' Did you studythat?"

  "I did!" I replied, grinning; "in high school! But, is your memoryreturning?"

  "Not so's you'd notice it! I have recollection of all I learned in aneducational way, but I can't see any individual picture of _me_,personally,--oh, never mind! How can I get a position as master designerin some great factory?"

  "That's a big order," I laughed. "But you can begin in a small way andrise to a proud eminence----"

  "No, thanky! I'm not as young as I once was,--my favorite doctor puts medown at thirty,--plus or minus,--but I feel about sixty."

  "Really, Rivers, do you feel like an old man?"

  "Not physically,--that's the queer part. But I feel as if my life was allbehind me----"

  "Oh, that's because of your temporary mental----"

  "I know it. And I'm going to conquer it,--or get around it some way. Now,if you'll introduce me,--and, yes, act as my guarantee, my reference,--Iknow it's asking a lot, but if you'll do that, I'll make good, I promiseyou!"

  "I believe you will, and I'm only too glad to do it. I'll take you,whenever you say, around to a firm I know of, that I believe will bejolly glad to get you. You see, so many men of your gifts have gone towar----"

  "Yes, I know, and I'd like to enlist myself, but Doc says I can't, beinga--a defective."

  "I wish you were a detective instead," I said, partly to turn the currentof his thoughts from his condition and partly because my mind was so fullof my own interests that he was a secondary consideration.

  "I'd like to be. I've been reading a bunch of detective stories sinceI've been here in hospital, and I don't see as that deduction business issuch a great stunt. Sherlock Holmes is all right, but most of hisimitators are stuff and nonsense."

  And then, unable to hold it back any longer, I told him all about theGately case and about Pennington Wise.

  He was deeply interested, and his eyes sparkled when I related Wise'sdeductions from the hatpin.

  "Has he proved it yet?" he asked; "have you checked him up?"

  "No, but there hasn't been time. He's only just started his work. He hasanother task; to find Amory Manning."

  "Who's he?"

  "A man who has disappeared, and there is fear of foul play."

  "Is he suspected of killing Gately?"

  "Oh, no, not that; but he was suspected of hiding to shield MissRaynor----"

  "Pshaw! a girl wouldn't commit a murder like that."

  "I don't think this girl did, anyway. And, in fact, they--the police Imean--have a new suspect. There's a man named Rodman, who is being lookedup."

  "Oh, it's all a great game! I wish I could get out into the world andtake part in such things!"

  "You will, old man. Once you're fairly started, the world will be----"

  "My cellar-door! You bet it will! I'm going to slide right down it."

  "What about your falling through it? Do you remember any more details ofthat somewhat--er--unusual performance?"

  "Yes, I do! And you can laugh all you like. That's no hallucination, it'sa clear, true memory,--the only memory I have."

  "Just what do you remember?"

  "That journey through the earth----"

  "You been reading Jules Verne lately?"

  "Never read it. But that long journey down, down,--miles and miles,--Ican never forget it! I've had a globe to look at, and I suppose I musthave started thousands of miles from here----"

  "Oh, now, come off----"

  "Well, it's no use. I can't make anybody believe it, but it's the truth!"

  "Write it up for the movies. The Man Who Fell Through the Earth would bea stunning title!"

  "Now you're guying me again. Guess
I'll shut up on that subject. But I'llstick you for one more helping-hand act. Where can I get a room to livein for a short time?"

  "Why a short time?"

  "Because I must take a dinky little cheap place at first, then soon, I'llbe on my feet, financially speaking, and I can move to decenter quarters.You see, I'm going to ask you after all to trust me with a few shekels,right now, and I'll return the loan, with interest, at no far distantdate."

  His calm assumption of success in a business way impressed me favorably.Undoubtedly, he had been one accustomed to making and spending money inhis previous life, and he took it as a matter of course. But his commonsense, which had by no means deserted him, made him aware that he couldget no satisfactory position without some sort of credentials.

  As he talked he was idly, it seemed, unconsciously, drawing on the paperpad that lay on the table at his elbow--delicate penciled marks thatresolved themselves into six-sided figures, whose radii blossomed outinto beautiful tendrils or spikes until they formed a perfect, harmoniouswhole; each section alike, just as in a snow crystal.

  They were so exquisitely done that I marveled at his peculiar gift.

  "You ought to design lace," I observed; "those designs are too fine forpapers or carpets."

  "Perhaps so," he returned, seriously gazing at his drawings. "Anyway,I'll design something,--and it'll be something worthwhile!"

  "Maybe you were an engraver," I hazarded, "before you----"

  "Before I fell through the earth? Maybe I was. Well, then, supposetomorrow I so far encroach on your good offices as to go with you to seethe firm you mentioned. Or, if you'll give me a letter ofintroduction----"

  "Do you know your way around New York?"

  "I'm not sure. I have a feeling I was in New York once,--a long time ago,but I can't say for certain."

  "I'll go with you then. I'll call for you tomorrow, and escort you to theoffice I have in mind, and also, look up a home and fireside that appealsto you."

  "The sort that appeals to me is out of the question at present," he said,firmly determined to put himself under no greater obligation to me thanneed be. "I'll choose a room like the old gentleman in the Bible had witha bed and a table and a stool and a candlestick."

  "You remember your literature all right."

  "I do, mostly; though I'll confess I read of that ascetic individualsince I've been here. The hospital is long on Bibles and detectivestories, and short on _belles-lettres_. Well, so long, old man!"

  I went away, pondering. It was a strange case, this of Case Rivers. Ismiled at the name he had chosen.

  He was positively a well-educated and well-read man. His speech gave me aslight impression of an Englishman, and I wondered if he might beCanadian. Of course, I didn't believe an atom of his yarn about comingfrom Canada to our fair city _via_ the interior of the globe,--but he mayhave had a lapse of memory that included his railroad journey, anddreamed that he came in some fantastic way.

  And then, as is usual, when leaving one scene for another, my thoughtsflew ahead to my next errand, which was a visit to Police Headquarters.

  Here Chief Martin gave me a lot of new information. It seemed they hadunearthed damaging evidence in the case of George Rodman, and he was,without a doubt, a malefactor,--but in what particular branch of evil theChief omitted to state. Nor could any rather broad hints produce anyresult. At last I said:

  "Why don't you arrest Rodman, then?"

  "Not enough definite evidence. I'm just about sure that he killed Gately,and I think I know why, but I can't prove it,--yet. Your statement thathis head shadowed on that glass door was the same head you saw the day ofthe murder, is our strongest point----"

  "Oh, I didn't say that!" I cried, aghast; "I do say it looked like thesame head, but I wouldn't swear that it was!"

  "Well, I think it was, and though we can't connect up the pistol withRodman----"

  "Did you get the pistol from the Boston man?"

  "Yes; Scanlon brought home that bacon. But careful grilling failed to getany more information from Lusk, the man who found the pistol. He tells astraight tale of his visit to the Puritan Building, and his businessthere, all corroborated by the people he called on. He found that pistol,just as he says he did. And, of course, I knew he told the truth in hisletter. If he were involved, or had any guilty knowledge of the crime, hesurely wouldn't write to tell us of it! So now we have the pistol, and weknow it was picked up in the tenth floor hall near Rodman's door,--butthat proves nothing, since we can't claim it is Rodman's weapon. It maybe, of course, but there's nothing to show it."

  "What does Rodman say for himself?"

  "Denies everything. Says he had the merest nodding acquaintance withGately,--this we know is a lie!--says he knew there was an elevator doorin his room, but he had never used it, nor even opened it. Said he hung abig war map over it because it was a good place for a map. We've noliving witness to give a shred of evidence against Rodman, except yourstatement about his shadow,--and that is uncertain at best."

  "Yes, it is. I do say it looked like Rodman's head,--that is, I mean,Rodman's head looked like the one I saw that day. But other heads mightlook as much like it."

  "That's the trouble. George Rodman is a slick chap, and what he does thathe doesn't want known, doesn't get known! But I'm onto him! And I'll betI'll get him yet. He's so comfoundedly cool that all I say to him rollsoff like water off a duck's back. He knows I've got no proof, and he'sbanking on that to get through."

  "What about Jenny? Can't she tell you anything?"

  "She knows nothing about Rodman. And that very point proves that if hevisited Gately often, as I think he did, he came and went by that privateelevator which connected their two offices, as well as made a street exitfor either or both of them."

  "Did old man Boyd ever see Rodman leave the Matteawan by way of thatelevator?"

  "He says he never did, but sometimes I think Rodman has fixed him."

  "And Jenny, too, maybe."

  "Maybe. And here's another thing. There's somebody called 'The Link,' whofigures largely in the whole affair, but figures secretly. I won't sayhow I found this little joker, but if I can dig up who 'The Link' is,I've made a great stride toward success."

  Naturally, I said nothing about Pennington Wise to the Chief of Police,but I made a mental note of "The Link" to report to the detective.

  "Reward's offered," we were suddenly informed, as Foxy Jim Hudson burstinto the room.

  "For what?" asked the Chief, a little absent-mindedly.

  "For information leading to the whereabouts of Amory Manning."

  Martin wheeled round in his chair to look at his subordinate. "Whooffered it? How much?"

  "That's the queer part, Chief. Not the amount,--that's five thousanddollars, but it's a person or persons unknown who will put up the kale.It's done through the firm of Kellogg and Kellogg,--about the whitestbunch of lawyers in town. I mean whoever offers that reward is somebodyworthwhile. No shyster business. I'm for it,--the money, I mean. Do youknow, Chief, the disappearance of that Manning chap is in some wayconnected with the Gately murder? I've got a hunch on that. And here'show I dope it out. Manning saw Rodman,--well, perhaps he didn't see himshoot, but he saw something that incriminated Rodman, and so he,--Rodman,had to get Manning out of the way. And did! You see, Friend Rodman is notonly a deep-dyed scoundrel,--but the dye was 'made in Germany'!"

  "Well, I'm glad the reward is offered," commented the Chief. "Now somerank outsider'll pipe up and speak his little piece."

  "Meaning anybody in particular?" I asked.

  With that peculiarly irritating trick of his, Chief Martin not only madeno reply but gave no evidence of having heard my question. He went on:

  "That makes two rewards. The Puritan Trust Company has offered fivethousand for the apprehension of Gately's murderer. This other fivethousand adds to the excitement and ought to produce a good result."

  "I'm out for both," announced Hudson. "Can't say I expect to get 'em, butI'll make a fierce stab at it
. Rodman has an awful big income, and novisible means of support. That fact ought to help."

  "How?" I asked.

  "Oh, it proves to my mind that he was mixed up in lucrative business thathe didn't--well--advertise. 'The Link' was mixed in, too. That is,--Isuppose,--'The Link' was a sort of go-between, who enabled Rodman totransact his nefarious deals secretly."

  "Well, Foxy, you know a lot," and the Chief laughed good-humoredly.

  I felt that I now knew a lot, too, and as I went away I determined to seePenny Wise at once, and report all I had learned. I dropped in first atmy own office, and found Norah in a brown study, her hands behind herhead and a half-written letter in her typewriter.

  She gazed at me absently, and then, noting my air of excitement, shebecame alert and exclaimed, "What's happened? What do you know new?"

  "Heaps," I vouchsafed, and then I told her, briefly, of Rodman's probableguilt and also of the offered rewards.

  "Jenny's your trump card," she said after a thoughtful silence. "Thatgirl knows a good deal that she hasn't told. I shouldn't be surprised ifshe's in Rodman's employ."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Oh, she's too glib. She admits so many things that she has seen or heardand then when you ask her about others, she is a blank wall. Now, shedoes know about them, but she won't tell. Why? Because she's paid notto."

  "Then how can we get around her?"

  "Pay her more." And Norah returned to her typing. But she looked up againto say: "Mrs. Russell called here about an hour ago."

  "She did! What for?"

  "I don't know. She wanted to see you. She was a bit forlorn, so I talkedto her a little."

  "I'm glad you did. Poor lady, she feels her brother's absence terribly."

  "Yes; we discussed it. She thinks he has been killed."

  "Has she any reason to think that?"

  "No, except that she dreamed it."

  "A most natural dream for a nervous, worried woman."

  "Of course. I wonder if she knows there's a reward offered for Mr.Manning?"

  "Maybe she offered it,--through the Kellogg people."

  "No, she didn't."

  "Pray, how do you know, oh, modern Cassandra?"

  "I don't know your old friend Cassandra, but I do know Mrs. Russell isn'toffering any five thousand dollars. She can't afford it."

  "Why, she's a rich woman."

  "She passes for one, and, of course, she isn't suffering for food orclothes. But she is economizing. She was wearing her last year's hat andmuff, and she maids herself."

  "Perhaps she wore her old clothes because she was merely out to call onmy unworthy self."

  "No. She was on her way to a reception. They're her best clothes now. Anda tiny rip in one glove and a missing snap-fastener on her bodice provesshe keeps no personal lady's maid, as people in her position usually do.So, I'm sure she isn't offering big reward money, though she loves herbrother."

  "You're a born detectivess, Norah. You'll beat Penny Wise at his owngame, if he doesn't watch out!"

  "Maybe," said Norah, and she laid her fingertips gracefully back on hertypewriter keys.