The Cab of the Sleeping Horse - Part 6
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Part 6

"Mr. Harleston," said Marston, "do you give us your word that the letter is not in your apartment?"

"You already have it," Harleston replied wearily.

"Then, sir, we'll take your word and withdraw."

"Thank you," said Harleston.

"He has it somewhere!" Crenshaw declared, fingering his revolver.

"My dear fellow," Marston returned, "we are willing to accept Mr.

Harleston's averment."

"He knows where it is--he took it--let him tell where it is hidden."

"What good will that subserve? We can't get it tonight, and tomorrow will be too late."

"And all because of you two meddlers."

"Three meddlers, Crenshaw!" Marston laughed. "You must not forget your sweet self. We've bungled the affair, I admit. We can't improve it now by murdering each other--"

"We can make it very uncomfortable for the fourth meddler," Crenshaw threatened, eyeing the figure on the bed.

"Haven't you made me uncomfortable enough by this untimely intrusion?"

Harleston muttered sleepily.

"What is your idea in not offering any opposition?" Crenshaw demanded.

"Is it a plant?"

"It was courtesy at first, and the novelty of the experience; but it's ceased to be novel, and courtesy is a bit supererogatory. By the way, which of you came up the fire-escape?"

The three shook their heads.

"I'm not a burglar," Crenshaw snapped.

"The burden is on you to prove it, my friend!" Harleston smiled.

"However, it's no matter. Just drop cards before you leave so that I can return your call. Once more, good-night!"

"I'm off," said Marston. "Come along, Crenshaw, you can't do anything more here, and we'll all forget and forgive and start fresh in the morning."

"Start?" cried Crenshaw? "what for--home? I tell you the letter is here--he took it, didn't he? He was at the cab."

"Will you also give your word that you didn't take a letter from the cab?" Crenshaw demanded, turning upon Harleston.

"I'll give you nothing since you've asked me in that manner," Harleston replied sharply; "unless you want this." His hand came from under the sheet, and Crenshaw was looking into a levelled 38. Harleston had a pair of them.

"Beat it, my man!" Harleston snapped. "None of you are of much success as burglars; you're not familiar with the trade. You're novices, rank novices. Also myself. I'll give you until I count five, Crenshaw, to make your adieux. One ... two ... No need for you two to hurry away--the time limit applies only to Mr. Crenshaw."

"It's quite time we were going, Mr. Harleston," Marston answered.

"Good-night, sir--and pleasant dreams. Come on, Crenshaw."

"Three ... four ..."

Crenshaw made a gesture of final threat.

"Meddler!" he exclaimed. Then he followed the other two.

IV

CRENSHAW

Harleston lay for a few minutes, brows drawn in thought; then he arose, crossed to the telephone, and took down the receiver.

"Good-morning, Miss Williams," he said. "Has it been a long night?"

"Pretty long, Mr. Harleston," the girl answered. "There hasn't been a thing doing for two hours."

"Haven't three gentlemen just left the building?"

"No one has pa.s.sed in or out since you came in, Mr. Harleston."

"Then I must be mistaken."

"You certainly are. It's so lonely down here, Mr. Harleston, you can pick up chunks of it and carry off."

"Been asleep?"

"I don't think!" she laughed. "I'm not minded to lose my job. Suppose some peevish woman wanted a doctor and she couldn't raise me; do you think I'd last longer than the morning and the manager's arrival? Nay!

Nay!"

"It's an unsympathetic world, isn't it, Miss Williams?"

"Only when you're down--otherwise it's not half bad. Say, maybe here's one of your men now; he's walking down. Shall I stop him?"

"No, no, let him go. When he's gone, tell me if he's slender, or stout, or has a moustache and imperial."

"Sure, I will."

Through the telephone Harleston could hear someone descend the stairs, cross the lobby, and the revolving doors swing around.

The next moment, the operator's voice came with a bit of laugh.

"Are you there, Mr. Harleston?"

"I'm here."