"I had already thought of doing so," said Barnes, surprised by the uncanny promptness of the man in hitting upon the strategy he had worked out for himself after many hara.s.sing hours. "He goes to my sister's place to-morrow morning."

"Send him by train. He will be easier to follow. There is a train leaving for the south at 9:15."

"You were saying that before morning you would--"

"Be careful! Don't whisper. People don't whisper to utter strangers.

Step over here by the front door. Would you be surprised if I were to tell you that his royal nibs is hiding in this town? Well, he certainly is. He bought a railway ticket for Albany at Hornville the day he beat it, but he got off at the second station,--which happens to be this one."

"How can you be sure of all this?"

"Simple as falling off a log," said Sprouse, squinting over his shoulder. "The Baroness Hedlund has been here for a week or ten days.

The Baron wasn't so far wrong in his suspicions, you see. He lost track of her, that's all. I happened to overhear a conversation at Hart's Tavern between him and his secretary. I have a way of hearing things I'm not supposed to hear, you know. By a curious coincidence I happened to be taking the air late one night just outside his window at the Tavern,--on the roof of the porch, to be accurate. I told Ugo what I'd heard and he nearly broke his neck trying to head her off. O'Dowd and De Soto rushed over to Hornville and telegraphed for her to leave the train at the first convenient place and return to New York. She was on her way up here, you see. She got off at Crowndale and everybody supposed that she had taken the next train home. But she didn't do anything of the kind. She is a silly, obstinate fool and she's crazy about Ugo,--and jealous as fury. She hated to think of him being up here with other women. A day or so later she sent him a letter. No one saw that letter but Ugo, and--your humble servant.

"I happened to be the one to go to Spanish Falls for the mail that day.

The postmark excited my curiosity. If I told you what I did to that letter before delivering it to Mr. Loeb, you could send me to a federal prison. But that's how I came to know that she had decided to wait in Crowndale until he sent word that the coast was clear. She went to the big sanatorium outside the town and has been there ever since, incognito, taking a cure for something or other. She goes by the name of Mrs. Ha.s.selwein. I popped down here this afternoon and found out that she is still at the sanatorium but expects to leave early to-morrow morning. Her trunks are over at the station now, to be expressed to Buffalo. I made another trip out there this evening and waited. About eight o'clock Mr. Ha.s.selwein strolled up. He sat on the verandah with her for half an hour or so and then left. I followed him.

He went to one of the little cottages that belong to the sanatorium. I couldn't get close enough to hear what they said, but I believe he expects to take her away in an automobile early in the morning. It is a seventy mile ride from here to the junction where they catch the train for the west. I'm going up now to make a call on Mr. Ha.s.selwein. Would you like to join me?"

Barnes eyed him narrowly. "There is only one reason why I feel that I ought to accompany you," he said. "If you have it in your mind to kill him, I certainly shall do everything in my power to prevent--"

"Possess your soul in peace. I'm not going to do anything foolish. Time enough left for that sort of thing. I will get him some day, but not now. By the way, what is the number of your room?"

"Twenty-two,--on the next floor."

"Good. Go upstairs now and I'll join you in about ten minutes. I will tap three times on your door."

"Why should you come to my room, Sprouse? We can say all that is to be said--"

"If you will look on the register you will discover that Mr. J. H.

Prosser registered here about half an hour ago. He is in room 30. He left a call for five o'clock. Well, Prosser is another name for Ugo."

"Here in this hotel? In room 30?" cried Barnes, incredulously.

"Sure as you're alive. Left the cottage an hour ago. Came in a jitney or I could have got to him on the way over."

Barnes, regardless of consequences, dashed over to inspect the register. Sprouse followed leisurely, shooting anxious glances up the stairs at the end of the lobby.

"See!" cried Barnes, excitedly, putting his finger on the name "Miss Jones." "She's in room 32,--next to his. By gad, Sprouse, do you suppose he knows that she is here? Would the dog undertake anything--"

"You may be sure he doesn't know she's here, or you either, for that matter. The country's full of Joneses and Barneses. Go on upstairs.

Leave everything to me."

He strolled away as the clerk came shuffling down the steps. As Barnes mounted them, he glanced over his shoulder and saw Sprouse take up a suitcase near the door and return to the desk, evidently for the purpose of engaging a room for the night.

Before going to his room, he strode lightly down the hall in the direction of room 30. There was no light in the transom. Stepping close to the door, he listened intently for sounds from within. He started back almost instantly. The occupant was snoring with extreme heartiness.

A glance revealed a light in the transom of room 32. As he looked, however, it disappeared. Abashed, he turned and went swiftly away. She was going to bed. He felt like a snooping, despicable "peeping Tom"

caught in the act.

He had been in his room for twenty minutes before he heard the tapping on his door. He opened it and Sprouse slid into the room. The instant the door closed behind him, he threw open his coat and coolly produced a long, shallow metal box, such as one finds in safety vaults.

"With my compliments," he said drily, thrusting the box into Barnes's hands. "You'd better have the Countess check them up and see if they're all there. I am not well enough acquainted with the collection to be positive."

Barnes was speechless. He could only stare, open-mouthed, at this amazing man.

"Grip 'em tight," went on Sprouse, grinning. "I may relieve you of them if you get too careless. My advice to you is to hide them and keep your lips closed--"

"My G.o.d, Sprouse, have you been in that man's room since I saw you down--"

"I forgot to say that no questions were to be asked," broke in the other.

"But I insist upon having everything cleared up. Here am I with a box of jewels stolen from a lodger's room, G.o.d knows how, and in danger of being slapped into jail if they catch me with the--"

"All you have to do is to keep quiet and look innocent. Stay out of the hall to-night. Don't go near the door of No. 30. Act like a man with brains. I said I would square myself with you and with him, too. Well, I've done both. Maybe you think it is easy to give up this stuff. There is a half million dollars' worth of nice little things in that box, small as it is. I went to a lot of trouble to get 'em, and all I'll receive for my pains is a thank you from Mr. Thomas K. Barnes, New York."

"I cannot begin to thank you enough," said Barnes. "See here, you must allow me to reward you in some way commensurate with your--"

"Cut that out," said Sprouse darkly. "I'm not so d.a.m.ned virtuous that I have to be rewarded. I like the game. It's the breath of life to me."

"The time will surely come when I can do you a good turn, Sprouse, and you will not find me reluctant," said Barnes, lamely. He was completely at a loss in the presence of the master-crook. He felt very small, and stupid, and inadequate,--as one always feels when confronted by genius.

Moreover, he was utterly stupefied.

"That's different. If I ever need a friendly hand I'll call on you.

It's only fair that I should give you a tip, Barnes, just to put you on your guard. I've lived up to my word in this business, and I've done all that I said I would. From now on, I'm a free agent. I want to advise you to put that stuff in a safe place. I'll give you two days'

start. After that, if I can get 'em away from you, or whoever may have them, I'm going to do it. They will be fair plunder from then on.

Notwithstanding the fact that I put them in your hands to-night,--and so wash my own of them temporarily,--I haven't a single scruple about relieving you of them on some later occasion. I may have to crack you over the head to do it,--so a word to the wise ought to be sufficient.

If you don't guard them pretty closely, my friend, you will regain consciousness some day and find you haven't got them any longer. Good night--and good-bye for the present. Stick close to your room till morning and--then beat it with her for New York. I give you two days'

start, remember."

He switched off the light suddenly. Barnes gasped and prepared to defend himself. Sprouse chuckled.

"Don't be nervous. I'm merely getting ready to leave you with your ill-gotten gains. It isn't wise, you see, to peep out of a door with a light in the room behind you. Keep cool. I sha'n't be more than a minute."

There was no sound for many seconds, save the deep breathing of the two men. Then, with infinite caution, Sprouse turned the k.n.o.b and opened the door a half inch or so. He left the room so abruptly that Barnes never quite got over the weird impression that he squeezed through that slender crack, and pulled it after him!

Many minutes pa.s.sed before he turned on the light. The key of the box was tied to the wire grip. With trembling fingers he inserted it in the lock and opened the lid.... "A half-million dollars' worth of nice little things," Sprouse had said!

He did not close his eyes that night. Daybreak found him lying in bed, with the box under his pillow, a pistol at hand, and his eyes wide-open. He was in a graver quandary than ever. Now that he had the treasure in his possession, what was he to do with it? He did not dare to leave it in the room, nor was it advisable to carry it about with him. The discovery of the burglary in room 30 would result in a search of the house, from top to bottom.

Cold perspiration started out on his brow. The situation was far from being the happy one that he had antic.i.p.ated.

He solved the breakfast problem by calling downstairs for a waiter and ordering coffee and rolls and eggs sent up to his room. Singularly enough the waiter solved the other and more disturbing problem for him.

"SOME robbery last night," said that worthy, as he re-appeared with the tray. Barnes was thankful that the waiter was not looking at him when he hurled the bomb, figuratively speaking. He had a moment's time to recover.

"What robbery?" he enquired, feigning indifference.

"Feller up in one of the cottages at the sanatorium. All beat up, something fierce they say."