CHAPTER XX

FRESH DEVELOPMENTS

On the following morning Ashton-Kirk entered his study; a few moments later Stumph followed him, bearing a cup of coffee. And while his employer sipped this, Stumph gravely remonstrated.

"You should not work. You have had too little sleep."

"Has Purvis come in?" asked the other, heedlessly.

"Yes, he is waiting." Then, not to be deterred, the man added, glancing at the patch of white plaster which covered the wound on his employer's head: "You will be ill--you should rest."

"There is work which must be done," smiled Ashton-Kirk. "You don't always lay up yourself, Stumph, when you are out of sorts."

"No, sir," replied the man, gravely, "but this----"

"Ask Purvis to come in."

A few moments later a young man with a prominent nose and a long chin came into the room.

"Good morning," said he. "I understand from Fuller that you wanted me last night."

"It did not matter, as things turned out."

"My orders," said Purvis, "were to follow any of the household. When Drevenoff left the place I got after him according to instructions.

But," with a disgusted air, "would you believe it?--I lost him."

If Ashton-Kirk was annoyed at this, he did not show it.

"How was that?" he inquired.

"He boarded the train at Eastbury," explained Purvis, "and I did the same. For the life of me I don't know how he did it, for I thought I had my eye on him all along; but when the train reached the city, he was not on it. Perhaps he noticed me and took a desperate chance while the train was moving."

"O'Neill is at the Fordham Road house," said Ashton-Kirk. "I want you to relieve him at noon."

"Very good," said Purvis. "Any instructions?"

"Nothing more than that you are to keep track of anything that may happen. O'Neill is to relieve you again at midnight."

When Purvis had taken his leave, Ashton-Kirk rang for Fuller. That young man entered; in spite of his loss of sleep he looked as brisk as ever.

"What about the motor cab?" asked the secret agent.

"I looked up the various stations. The nearest to Okiu's house is on Collingwood Avenue. I called them on the telephone, but could get no satisfaction. Then I paid them a visit, with better results. Okiu called a cab about midnight. Its driver's name is Freeman, and he lives on Nineteenth Street. Having gone off duty I thought he would probably be at his boarding-house; so I went there and was lucky enough to find him at home.

"Yes, he recalled the trip to Eastbury, and remembered perfectly that he had run his fare all the way to the city and to the railroad station.

Then I went to the station. Again I was fortunate. A j.a.p answering Okiu's description had been sold two tickets at just about the time the taxi driver said he had reached the station."

"You inquired to what points the tickets were bought?"

"Yes," and here Fuller's face expressed great satisfaction. "They were for Washington."

The secret agent arose to his feet, his singular eyes shining with excitement, his nostrils dilating like those of a thoroughbred facing the barrier. After a few turns up and down the room, he said:

"This looks like the last stage of the chase. We must win now, or never."

"Washington," said Fuller, "is headquarters for such things as that secret doc.u.ment. The emba.s.sies just yawn for them."

There was a short pause; Ashton-Kirk halted at a window, and looked down at the eager, grubbing horde in the street.

"What have you heard from Burgess?" he asked.

"He sent in a long written report this morning. It would seem that the flurry on Fordham Road was not the only one last night--or rather this morning."

Fuller handed the other a number of folded sheets. They ran:

"I am sending this by messenger. Can't leave the job myself. About an hour ago Karkowsky got a call on the telephone. A man came to his room door and began hammering to wake him up. The 'phone is on the first floor; Karkowsky hurried down to answer; and I followed him.

"He went into the booth; I couldn't hear what was said, but I could see him through the gla.s.s door; and if ever a man listened to anything with attention, he was that man. As I watched him I could see that he grew more and more excited; then he hung up, and rushed out of the booth. The first thing he did was to s.n.a.t.c.h down a time-table from a rack; skimming it over he threw it aside and then was off up-stairs. I managed to get possession of the time-table; it was a schedule of Washington trains.

"Just now it looks as though my man were going to jump out for Washington. If he does I'll call you.

"BURGESS."

"So," said Ashton-Kirk, as he laid the report upon the table, "our friend Karkowsky also shows an interest in Washington. Has Burgess called as yet?"

"Yes, I had a short talk with him a while ago. He was then at the station waiting for the train which Karkowsky was to take. And,"

continued Fuller, "he told me of something more. It seems while he was waiting at the Lowe Street place for Karkowsky to make a move, he thought he'd like to know who had the Pole on the 'phone and put him into such a state of mind.

"So he called the operator. 'This is such and such a number,' he says.

'What number was that who just called me?'

"'It was so and so number,' says the girl, after a little.

"'All right,' says he, 'give me that.'"

"Well?" said Ashton-Kirk.

"It was a tavern on Fordham Road about a block from Morse's," said Fuller. "The barkeeper answered. The only person he'd seen using the telephone was a young fellow who talked a foreign language--a Pole who lived at Morse's--the place he said where the man was killed a few nights ago. That was enough for Burgess; so he thanked the man and hung up."

"Drevenoff has heard something," smiled Ashton-Kirk. "Altogether he seems a marvelously well-posted young man."

There was some further talk between the two; then Fuller went out and Ashton-Kirk continued to stand by the window, gazing down at the thronging, chaffering, noisy crowd. Large horses drew small loads, while small men staggered under large ones; heady cries summoned those at a distance to the spots where bargains in faded vegetables or decaying fish were to be had; the stone steps of the houses were filled with men in hard hats and upturned coat collars; women with their heads wrapped in knitted shawls peered out between the folds in stolid wonder.

At length he turned from the window, sat down in the wide-armed chair and lighted the German pipe; clouds began to gather above his head and to curl into the outer air; the rumble of wheels, the outcries of the drivers and hucksters, the undertone of those cautiously sparring for the advantage in a trade, stole into the room; however, he smoked on, oblivious. But, when his pondering seemed at its deepest and the corrugations between his eyes the most prominent, he suddenly struck the table a blow with his palm and leaped up.