XXVIII
THE FIRST EFFORT
LEAVES FROM ALANSON BLACK'S NOTE-BOOK, FOUND BY REUTHER SOME MONTHSLATER, IN A VERY QUEER PLACE, VIZ.: HER MOTHER'S JEWEL-BOX
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At the New Willard. Awaiting two articles--Oliver's picture and a fewlines in the judge's writing requesting his son's immediate return.Meanwhile, I have made no secret of my reason for being here. All myinquiries at the desk have shown it to be particularly connected with acertain bill now before Congress, in which Shelby is vitally interested.
Perhaps I can further the interests of this bill in off minutes. I amwilling to.
The picture is here, as well as the name of the hotel where the two women are staying. I have spent five minutes studying the face I must be able to recognise at first glance in any crowd. It's not a bad face; I can see his mother's looks in him. But it is not the face I used to know. Trouble develops a man.
There's a fellow here who rouses my suspicions. No one knows him;--Idon't myself. But he's strangely interested in me. If he's fromShelby--in other words, if he's from the detective bureau there, I'veled him a chase to-day which must have greatly bewildered him. I'm notslow, and I'm not above mixing things. From the Cairo where our presentcongressman lives, I went to the Treasury, then to the White House, andthen to the Smithsonian--with a few newspaper offices thrown in, andsome hotels where I took pains that my interviews should not be toobrief. When quite satisfied that by these various and somewhat confusingperegrinations I had thrown off any possible shadower, I fetched up atthe Library where I lunched. Then, as I thought the time had come for meto enjoy myself, I took a walk about the great building, ending up withthe reading-room. Here I asked for a book on a certain abstruse subject.Of course, it was not in my line, but I looked wise and spoke the nameglibly. When I sat down to consult it, the man who brought it threw me ashort glance which I chose to think peculiar. "You don't have manyreaders for this volume?" I ventured. He smiled and answered, "Just sentit back to the shelves. It's had a steady reader for ten days. Beforethat, nobody." "Is this your steady reader?" I asked, showing him thephotograph I drew from my pocket. He stared, but said nothing. He didnot have to. In a state of strange satisfaction I opened the book. Itwas Greek, if not worse, to me, but I meant to read a few paragraphs forthe sake of appearances, and was turning over the pages in search of apromising chapter, when--Talk of remarkable happenings!--there in themiddle of the book was a card,--his card!--left as a marker, no doubt,and on this card, an address hastily scribbled in lead pencil. It onlyremained for me to find that the hotel designated in this address was aWashington one, for me to recognise in this simple but strangelyopportune occurrence, a coincidence--or, as YOU would say,--an act ofProvidence as startling as those we read of in books.
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The first man I accosted in regard to the location of this hotel saidthere was none of that name in Washington. The next, that he thoughtthere was, but that he could not tell me where to look for it. Thethird, that I was within ten blocks of its doors. Did I walk? No, I tooka taxi. I thought of your impatience and became impatient too. But whenI got there, I stopped hurrying. I waited a full half-hour in the lobbyto be sure that I had not been followed before I approached the desk andasked to see Mr. Ostrander. No such person was in the hotel or had been.Then I brought out my photograph. The face was recognised, but not asthat of a guest. This seemed a puzzle. But after thinking it over forawhile, I came to this conclusion: that the address I saw written on thecard was not his own, but that of some friend he had casually met.
This put me in a quandary. The house was full of young men; how pick outthe friend? Besides, this friend was undoubtedly a transient and gonelong ago. My hopes seemed likely to end in smoke--my great coincidenceto prove valueless. I was so convinced of this, that I started to go;then I remembered you, and remained. I even took a room, registeringmyself for the second time that day,--which formality over, I sat downin the office to write letters.
Oliver Ostrander is in Washington. That's something.
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I cannot sleep. Indeed, I may say that this is the first time in my lifewhen I failed to lose my cares the moment my head struck the pillow.
The cause I will now relate.
I had finished and mailed my letter to you and was just in the act ofsealing another, when I heard a loud salutation uttered behind me, andturning, was witness to the meeting of two young men who had run uponeach other in the open doorway. The one going out was a stranger to meand I hardly noticed him, but the one coming in was Oliver Ostrander (orhis photograph greatly belied him), and in my joy at an encounter sogreatly desired but so entirely unhoped for, I was on the point ofrising to intercept him, when some instinct of precaution led me toglance about me first for the individual who had shown such a persistentinterest in me from the moment of my arrival. There he sat, not a dozenchairs away, ostensibly reading, but with a quick eye ready for me theinstant I gave him the slightest chance:--a detective, as certainly as Iwas Black, the lawyer.
What was I to do? The boy was leaving town--was even then on his way tothe station as his whole appearance and such words as he let fall amplydenoted. If I let him go, would another such chance of delivering hisfather's message be given me? Should I not lose him altogether; while ifI approached him or betrayed in any way my interest in him, thedetective would recognise his prey and, if he did not arrest him on thespot, would never allow him to return to Shelby unattended. This wouldbe to defeat the object of my journey, and recalling the judge'sexpression at parting, I dared not hesitate. My eyes returned withseeming unconcern to the letter I was holding and the detective's to hispaper. When we both looked up again the two young men had quit thebuilding and the business which had brought me to Washington was at anend.
But I am far from being discouraged. A fresh start with the prospect ofReuther's companionship, inspires me with more hope for my next venture.