Of course I did not care to commit myself, as you can readily understand, Mr. Hamilton, until I was a.s.sured the proposition was bona fide.

"Mr. Mallowe and Mr. Carlis suggested that I call Mr. Lawton up on the private wire in his office, but the matter was so delicate that as long as he had not come to me in person I did not care to telephone him. Mr. Mallowe showed me a letter which he had recently received from Pennington Lawton corroborating his statement. But in the matter of the amount desired we could not definitely distinguish the figures.

Mr. Mallowe was sure that it was three hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Mr. Carlis was equally certain that it was three hundred and eighty-five thousand. To make certain of the matter they called Mr.

Lawton up from my office here in my presence, and he stated that the sum desired was three hundred and fifty thousand dollars. There was only one odd thing about the entire transaction, and that was a remark Mr. Mallowe made as he was leaving. After the negotiations had been completed he turned and said, 'You understand, Mr. Moore, that Mr.

Lawton is so careful, so secretive, that he does not wish this matter ever mentioned to him personally, even if you think yourself absolutely alone with him.'"

"Mr. Lawton was a very peculiar man in many ways," Ramon said meditatively. "His methods of conducting his affairs were not always easily understood. The negotiations were then completed shortly thereafter?"

"Yes, within a few days. I turned the amount required over to Mr.

Mallowe and Mr. Carlis, and accepted Mr. Lawton's note. I will show it to you if you care to see it."

"That will not be necessary, Mr. Moore, but I am going to make a request that may seem very strange to you. Should it be necessary, would you be willing to show that note to some one whom I may bring here to you--some one who may prefer not to see you personally, but merely to be permitted to examine the note in the presence of some responsible people of your own choosing?"

"Certainly, Mr. Hamilton. I think I can safely promise that. But what does it mean--is there anything wrong with Pennington Lawton's note?"

"Not that I am aware of, Mr. Moore," Ramon answered, laughing rather shortly. "I am unable to explain just now, but I think the name of Pennington Lawton carries with it a sufficient guarantee that the note will be honored when it is presented."

An hour later, at the close of the busiest day he had experienced since his graduation from the law school, young Hamilton presented himself at Henry Blaine's office. The detective listened in silence to his story, and at its conclusion remarked quietly: "You did well, Mr.

Hamilton. I am going to call one of my operatives and ask you to repeat to him in detail the location of that safe in Mallowe's office and the drawer which contains Mr. Lawton's letter from Long Bay."

"Anyone would think you meant to steal it, Mr. Blaine."

Young Hamilton's laugh was now unrestrained. "There couldn't possibly be anything wrong with the note or the entire transaction. Mr. Moore proved that when he told me how Mr. Mallowe and Carlis called up Mr.

Lawton in his presence on his private wire and discussed the negotiations."

"Are you sure that they did, Mr. Hamilton?" The detective suddenly leaned forward across his desk, his body tense, his eyes alight with fervid animation. "Are you sure Pennington Lawton ever received that message?"

"He must have. According to Mr. Moore, the two men used Mr. Lawton's private wire, the number of which was known only to a few of his closest intimates and which of course was not listed."

"But some one who knew that the telephone message was coming might readily have been in Lawton's office seated at his desk, alone, and replied to it in the financier's name. Do you understand, Mr.

Hamilton? The note may be a forgery, the letter may be a forgery; that we shall soon know. If it is, and the money so obtained from Moore has been converted to the use of the three confederates whom we suspect to have formed a conspiracy to ruin Miss Lawton, then her father's entire fortune might have been seized upon in virtually the same way."

Henry Blaine rose and paced back and forth as if almost oblivious of the other's presence. "The mortgage of his was forged--we have proved that," he continued. "Why, then, should not every other available security have been stolen in practically the same way?" he continued.

"But how would anyone dare? The whole thing is too bare-faced," Ramon expostulated. "A man like Mr. Moore could not have been imposed upon by a mere forgery."

"But if that note proves to be a forgery, Mr. Hamilton, and the letter as well--we shall have picked up a tangible clue at last. I think I am beginning to see daylight."

Late that night in the huge suite of offices of President Mallowe of the Street Railways, a very curious scene took place. The stolid watchman who had been on uneventful duty there for twenty years had made his rounds for the last time. With superb nonchalance, he settled himself for his accustomed nap in his employer's chair. From the stillness and gloom of the semi-deserted office-building two stealthy figures descended swiftly upon him, their feet sinking noiselessly into the rich pile of the rugs. A short, silent struggle, a cloth saturated with chloroform pressed heavily over his face, and the guardian of the premises lay inert. The shorter, more stocky of the two nocturnal visitors, without more ado switched on a pocket electric light and made a hasty but thorough survey of the room. The taller one shrank back inadvertently from the drug-stilled body in the chair, then resolutely turned and knelt beside his companion before the safe.

He dreaded to think of what discovery might mean. If he, Ramon Hamilton, were to be caught in the act of burglarizing, his career as a rising young lawyer would be at an end. The risk indeed was great, but he had promised Henry Blaine every aid in his power to help the girl he loved.

After a minute examination, the operative proceeded to work upon the ma.s.sive safe door. With the cunning of a _Jimmy Valentine_ he manipulated the tumblers. Ramon Hamilton, his discomfiture forgotten, watched with breathless interest while the keen, sensitive fingers performed their task. Soon the great doors swung noiselessly back and the manifold compartments within were revealed.

The young lawyer pointed out the drawer from which he had seen President Mallowe remove the letter that morning, and it, too, yielded quickly to the master-touch of the expert. There, on the very top of a pile of papers, lay the written page they sought.

"He'll be all right. We haven't done for him, have we?" Ramon Hamilton whispered anxiously, pointing to the watchman's unconscious form, as, their mission accomplished, they stole from the room.

"Surest thing you know. He'll come to in half an hour, none the worse," the operative responded. "We made a good clean job of it."

Henry Blaine could hardly suppress his elation when they laid the letter before him on their return to his office.

"It's a forgery, just as I suspected," he exclaimed, with supreme satisfaction. "Look, Hamilton; I'll show you how it was done."

"It is incredible. I can scarcely believe it. I know Pennington Lawton's handwriting as well as I know my own, and I could swear that his fingers guided the pen. His writing was as distinctive as his character."

"It's that very fact," the detective returned, "which would have made it easier to copy; but, as it happens, you are partially right. This was not a forgery in the ordinary sense. Those are Pennington Lawton's own words before you, in his own handwriting."

"Then how--" the young lawyer inquired, in a bewildered tone.

Henry Blaine smiled.

"You do not intend to specialize in criminal law, do you, Mr.

Hamilton?" he remarked whimsically. "If you do, you will have to be up in the latest tricks of the trade. The man who forged this letter--the same man, by the way, forged the signature on that mortgage--accomplished it like this: He took a bundle of Mr. Lawton's old letters, cut out the actual words he desired, and pasted 'em in their proper order on the letter paper. Then he photographed this composite, and electrotyped it--that is, transferred it to a copperplate, and etched it. Then he re-photographed it, and in this way got an actual photograph of a supposedly authentic communication. There is only one man in this country who is capable of such perfect work. I know who that man is and where to find him."

"Then if you can locate him before he skips, and make him talk, you will have won the victory," Ramon exclaimed, jubilantly.

But the detective shook his head.

"The time is not yet ripe for that. The man is, in my estimation, a mere tool in the hands of the men higher up. He may not be able to give us any actual proof against them, and our exposure of him will only tip them off--put 'em on their guard. We needn't show our hand just yet."

"What's the next move to be, then?" the young lawyer asked. "I don't mean, of course, that I wish to inquire into your methods of handling the case--but have you any further commissions for me?"

"Only to accompany me to-morrow morning to the office of Charlton Moore and let me examine that note which Mr. Lawton presumably gave two years ago. Afterward, I have four little amateur detectives of mine to interview--then I think we'll be able to proceed straight to our goal."

The note also, as Henry Blaine had predicted, proved to be a forgery and to have been executed by the same hand as the letter.

[Ill.u.s.tration: With the cunning of a Jimmy Valentine he manipulated the tumblers. Ramon Hamilton, his discomfiture forgotten, watched with breathless interest.]

The detective betrayed to the unsuspecting banker no sign of his elation at the discovery, but following their interview he returned to his office and sent for the four young girls whom he had taken from the Anita Lawton Club and installed in the offices of the men he suspected.

The first to respond was Margaret Hefferman, who had been sent as stenographer to Rockamore, the promoter.

"You followed my instructions, Miss Hefferman," asked Blaine. "You kept a list for me of Mr. Rockamore's visitors?"

"Yes, sir. I have it here in my bag. I also brought carbon copies of two letters which Mr. Rockamore dictated and which I thought might have some bearing on the matter in which you are interested--although I could not quite understand them myself."

"Let me see them, please."

Blaine took the doc.u.ments and list of names, scanning them quickly and sharply with a practised eye. The names were those of the biggest men in the city--bankers, brokers, financiers and promoters. Among them, that of President Mallowe and Timothy Carlis appeared frequently. At only one did Henry Blaine pause--at that of Mark Paddington. He had known the man as an employee of a somewhat shady private detective agency several years before and had heard that he had later been connected in some capacity with the city police, but had never come into actual contact with him.

What business could a detective of his caliber have to do with Bertrand Rockamore?

The letters were short and cryptic in their meaning, and significant only when connected with those to whom they were addressed. The first was to Timothy Carlis; it read:

Your communication received. We must proceed with the utmost care in this matter. Keep me advised of any further contingencies which may arise. P. should know or be able to find out. The affair is to his interests as much as ours.

B. R.

The second was addressed to Paddington: