CHAPTER X. THE AFFAIR or AN ALIEN SOCIETY
Sogrange and Peter, Baron de Grost, standing upon the threshold of theirhotel, gazed out upon New York and liked the look of it. They had landedfrom the steamer a few hours before, had already enjoyed the luxury of abath, a visit to an American barber's, and a genuine cocktail.
"I see no reason," Sogrange declared, "why we should not take a week'sholiday."
Peter, glancing up into the blue sky and down into the faces of thewell-dressed and beautiful women who were streaming up Fifth Avenue, waswholly of the same mind.
"If we return by this afternoon's steamer," he remarked, "we shall haveBernadine for a fellow passenger. Bernadine is annoyed with us just now.I must confess that I should feel more at my ease with a few thousandmiles of the Atlantic between us."
"Let it be so," Sogrange assented. "We will explore this marvelous city.Never," he added, taking his companion's arm, "did I expect to seesuch women save in my own, the mistress of all cities. So chic, my dearBaron, and such a carriage! We will lunch at one of the fashionablerestaurants and drive in the Park afterwards. First of all, however, wemust take a stroll along this wonderful Fifth Avenue."
The two men spent a morning after their own hearts. They lunchedastonishingly well at Sherry's and drove afterwards in Central Park.When they returned to the hotel, Sogrange was in excellent spirits.
"I feel, my friend," he announced, "that we are going to have a verypleasant and, in some respects, a unique week. To meet friends andacquaintances, everywhere, as one must do in every capital in Europe,is, of course, pleasant, but there is a monotony about it from whichone is glad sometimes to escape. We lunch here and we promenade in theplaces frequented by those of a similar station to our own, and behold!we know no one. We are lookers on. Perhaps for a long time it mightgall. For a brief period there is a restfulness about it which pleasesme."
"I should have liked," Peter murmured, "an introduction to the lady inthe blue hat."
"You are a gregarious animal," Sogrange declared. "You do not understandthe pleasures of a little comparative isolation with an intellectualcompanion such as myself... What the devil is the meaning of this!"
They had reached their sitting-room and upon a small round table stooda great collection of cards and notes. Sogrange took them up helplessly,one after the other, reading the names aloud and letting them fallthrough his fingers. Some were known to him, some were not. He began toopen the notes. In effect they were all the same--what evening would theMarquis de Sogrange and his distinguished friend care to dine, lunch,yacht, golf, shoot, go to the opera, join a theatre party? Of what clubswould they care to become members? What kind of hospitality would bemost acceptable?
Sogrange sank into a chair.
"My friend," he exclaimed, "they all have to be answered--thatcollection there! The visits have to be returned. It is magnificent,this hospitality, but what can one do?"
Peter looked at the pile of correspondence upon which Sogrange's inroad,indeed, seemed to have had but little effect.
"One could engage a secretary, of course," he suggested, doubtfully."But the visits! Our week's holiday is gone."
"Not at all," Sogrange replied. "I have an idea."
The telephone bell rang. Peter took up the receiver and listened for amoment. He turned to Sogrange, still holding it in his hand.
"You will be pleased, also, to hear," he announced, "that there are halfa dozen reporters downstairs waiting to interview [Transcriber's note:word missing]."
Sogrange received the information with interest.
"Have them sent up at once," he directed, "every one of them."
"What, all at the same time?" Peter asked.
"All at the same time it must be," Sogrange answered. "Give them tounderstand that it is an affair of five minutes only."
They came trooping in. Sogrange welcomed them cordially.
"My friend, the Baron de Grost," he explained, indicating Peter. "I amthe Marquis de Sogrange. Let us know what we can do to serve you."
One of the men stepped forward.
"Very glad to meet you, Marquis, and you, Baron," he said. "I won'tbother you with any introductions, but I and the company here representthe Press of New York. We should like some information for our papers asto the object of your visit here and the probable length of your stay."
Sogrange extended his hands.
"My dear friend," he exclaimed, "the object of our visit was, I thought,already well known. We are on our way to Mexico. We leave to-night. Myfriend the Baron is, as you know, a financier. I, too, have a littlemoney to invest. We are going out to meet some business acquaintanceswith a view to inspecting some mining properties. That is absolutely allI can tell you. You can understand, of course, that fuller informationwould be impossible."
"Why, that's quite natural, Marquis," the spokesman of the reportersreplied. "We don't like the idea of your hustling out of New York likethis, though?"
Sogrange glanced at the clock.
"It is unavoidable," he declared. "We are relying upon you, gentlemen,to publish the fact, because you will see," he added, pointing to thetable, "that we have been the recipients of a great many civilities,which it is impossible for us to acknowledge properly. If it will giveyou any pleasure to see us upon our return, you will be very welcome. Inthe meantime, you will understand our haste."
There were a few more civilities and the representatives of the Presstook their departure. Peter looked at his companion doubtfully, asSogrange returned from showing them out.
"I suppose this means that we have to catch to-day's steamer, afterall?" he remarked.
"Not necessarily," Sogrange answered. "I have a plan. We will leave forthe Southern depot, wherever it may be. Afterwards, you shall use thatwonderful skill of yours, of which I have heard so much, to effect someslight change in our appearance. We will then go to another hotel, inanother quarter of New York, and take our week's holiday incognito. Whatdo you think of that for an idea?"
"Not much," Peter replied. "It isn't so easy to dodge the newspapers andthe Press in this country. Besides, although I could manage myself verywell, you would be an exceedingly awkward subject. Your tall and elegantfigure, your aquiline nose, the shapeliness of your hands and feet, giveyou a distinction which I should find it hard to conceal."
Sogrange smiled.
"You are a remarkably observant fellow, Baron. I quite appreciate yourdifficulty. Still, with a club foot, eh, and spectacles instead of myeyeglass--"
"Oh, no doubt, something could be managed," Peter interrupted. "You'rereally in earnest about this, are you?"
"Absolutely," Sogrange declared. "Come here!"
He drew Peter to the window. They were on the twelfth story, and toa European there was something magnificent in that tangled mass ofbuildings threaded by the elevated railway, with its screaming trains,the clearness of the atmosphere, and in the white streets below, likepolished belts through which the swarms of people streamed like insects.
"Imagine it all lit up!" Sogrange exclaimed. "The sky-signs all ablaze,the flashing of fire from those cable wires, the lights glittering fromthose tall buildings! This is a wonderful place, Baron. We must see it.Ring for the bill. Order one of those magnificent omnibuses. Press thebutton, too, for the personage whom they call the valet. Perhaps, with alittle gentle persuasion, he could be induced to pack our clothes."
With his finger upon the hell, Peter hesitated. He, too, lovedadventures, but the gloom of a presentiment had momentarily depressedhim.
"We are marked men, remember, Sogrange," he said. "An escapade of thissort means a certain amount of risk, even in New York."
Sogrange laughed.
"Bernadine caught the midday steamer! We have no enemies here that Iknow of."
Peter pressed the button. An hour or so later, the Marquis de Sograngeand Peter, Baron de Grost, took their leave of New York.
They chose a hotel on Broadway, within a stone's throw of Rector's.Peter, with whitened ha
ir, gold-rimmed spectacles, a slouch hat anda fur coat, passed easily enough for an English maker of electricalinstruments; while Sogrange, shabbier, and in ready-made Americanclothes, was transformed into a Canadian having some connection with thetheatrical business. They plunged into the heart of New York life, andfound the whole thing like a tonic. The intense vitality of the people,the pandemonium of Broadway at midnight, with its flaming illuminations,its eager crowd, its inimitable restlessness, fascinated them both.Sogrange, indeed, remembering the decadent languor of the crowds ofpleasure seekers thronging his own boulevards, was never weary ofwatching these men and women. They passed from the streets to therestaurants, from the restaurants to the theatre, out into the streetsagain, back to the restaurants, and once more into the streets. Sograngewas like a glutton. The mention of bed was hateful to him. For threedays they existed without a moment's boredom.
On the fourth evening, Peter found Sogrange deep in conversation withthe head porter. In a few minutes he led Peter away to one of the barswhere they usually took their cocktail.
"My friend," he announced, "to-night I have a treat for you. So far wehave looked on at the external night life of New York. Wonderful andthrilling it has been, too. But there is the underneath, also. Why not?There is a vast polyglot population here, full of energy said life. Acriminal class exists as a matter of course. To-night we make our bow toit."
"And by what means?" Peter inquired.
"Our friend the hall-porter," Sogrange continued, "has given me the cardof an ex-detective who will be our escort. He calls for us to-night,or rather to-morrow morning, at one o'clock. Then behold! the wand iswaved, the land of adventures opens before us."
Peter grunted.
"I don't want to damp your enthusiasm, my Canadian friend," he said,"but the sort of adventures you may meet with to-night are scarcelylikely to fire your romantic nature. I know a little about what theycall this underneath world in New York. It will probably resolve itselfinto a visit to Chinatown, where we shall find the usual dummies takingopium and quite prepared to talk about it for the usual tip. After thatwe shall visit a few low dancing halls, be shown the scene of severalmurders, and the thing is done."
"You are a cynic," Sogrange declared. "You would throw cold water uponany enterprise. Anyway, our detective is coming. We must make use ofhim, for I have engaged to pay him twenty-five dollars."
"We'll go where you like," Peter assented, "so long as we dine on aroof garden. This beastly fur coat keeps me in a state of chronicperspiration."
"Never mind," Sogrange said, consolingly, "it's most effective. A roofgarden, by all means."
"And recollect," Peter insisted, "I bar Chinatown. We've both of us seenthe real thing, and there's nothing real about what they show you here."
"Chinatown is erased from our program," Sogrange agreed. "We go now todine. Remind me, Baron, that I inquire for those strange dishes ofwhich one hears Terrapin, Canvas-backed Duck, Green Corn, StrawberryShortcake."
Peter smiled grimly.
"How like a Frenchman," he exclaimed, "to take no account of seasons!Never mind, Marquis, you shall give your order and I will sketch thewaiter's face. By the bye, if you're in earnest about this expeditionto-night, put your revolver into your pocket."
"But we 're going with an ex-detective," Sogrange replied.
"One never knows," Peter said, carelessly.
They dined close to the stone palisading of one of New York's mostfamous roof gardens. Sogrange ordered an immense dinner but spent mostof his time gazing downwards. They were higher up than at the hoteland they could see across the tangled maze of lights even to the river,across which the great ferry-boats were speeding all the while--hugecreatures of streaming fire and whistling sirens. The air where theysat was pure and crisp. There was no fog, no smoke, to cloud the almostcrystalline clearness of the night.
"Baron," Sogrange declared, "if I had lived in this city I should havebeen a different man. No wonder the people are all conquering."
"Too much electricity in the air for me," Peter answered. "I like alittle repose. I can't think where these people find it."
"One hopes," Sogrange murmured, "that before they progress any furtherin utilitarianism, they will find some artist, one of themselves, toexpress all this."
"In the meantime," Peter interrupted, "the waiter would like to knowwhat we are going to drink. I've eaten such a confounded jumble ofthings of your ordering that I should like some champagne."
"Who shall say that I am not generous!" Sogrange replied, taking up thewine carte. "Champagne it shall be. We need something to nerve us forour adventures."
Peter leaned across the table.
"Sogrange," he whispered, "for the last twenty-four hours I have hadsome doubts as to the success of our little enterprise. It has occurredto me more than once that we are being shadowed."
Sogrange frowned.
"I sometimes wonder," he remarked, "how a man of your suspicious natureever acquired the reputation you undoubtedly enjoy."
"Perhaps it is because of my suspicious nature," Peter said. "There is aman staying in our hotel whom we are beginning to see quite a greatdeal of. He was talking to the head porter a few minutes before you thisafternoon. He supped at the same restaurant last night. He is diningnow three places behind you to the right, with a young lady who has beenmaking flagrant attempts at flirtation with me, notwithstanding my grayhairs."
"Your reputation, my dear Peter," Sogrange murmured--
"As a decoy," Peter interrupted, "the young lady's methods are toovigorous. She pretends to be terribly afraid of her companion, but it isentirely obvious that she is acting on his instructions. Of course, thismay be a ruse of the reporters. On the other hand, I think it would bewise to abandon our little expedition to-night."
Sogrange shook his head.
"So far as I am concerned," he said, "I am committed to it."
"In which case," Peter replied, "I am certainly committed to being yourcompanion. The only question is whether one shall fall to the decoyand suffer oneself to be led in the direction her companion desires, orwhether we shall go blundering into trouble on our own account with yourfriend the ex-detective."
Sogrange glanced over his shoulder, leaned back in his chair for amoment, as though to look at the stars, and finally lit a cigarette.
"There is a lack of subtlety about that young person, Baron," hedeclared, "which stifles one's suspicions. I suspect her to be merelyone more victim to your undoubted charms. In the interests of Madameyour wife, I shall take you away. The decoy shall weave her spells invain."
They paid their bill and departed a few minutes later. The man and thegirl were also in the act of leaving. The former seemed to be havingsome dispute about the bill. The girl, standing with her back to him,scribbled a line upon a piece of paper, and, as Peter went by, pushed itinto his hand with a little warning gesture. In the lift he opened it.The few penciled words contained nothing but an address: Number 15,100th Street, East.
"Lucky man!" Sogrange sighed.
Peter made no remark, but he was thoughtful for the next hour or so.
The ex-detective proved to be an individual of fairly obviousappearance, whose complexion and thirst indicated a very possible reasonfor his life of leisure. He heard with surprise that his patrons werenot inclined to visit Chinatown, but he showed a laudable desire to fallin with their schemes, provided always that they included a reasonablenumber of visits to places where refreshment could be obtained. Fromfirst to last, the expedition was a disappointment. They visited varioussmoke-hung dancing halls, decorated for the most part with oleographsand cracked mirrors, in which sickly-Looking young men of unwholesomeaspect were dancing with their feminine counterparts. The attitude oftheir guide was alone amusing.
"Say, you want to be careful in here!" he would declare, in an awedtone, on entering one of these tawdry palaces. "Guess this is one ofthe toughest spots in New York City. You stick close to me and I'll makethings all right."
; His method of making things all right was the same in every case. Hewould form a circle of disreputable-looking youths, for whose drinksSogrange was called upon to pay. The attitude of these young men wasmore dejected than positively vicious. They showed not the slightestsigns of any desire to make themselves unpleasant. Only once, whenSogrange incautiously displayed a gold watch, did the eyes of one ortwo of their number glisten. The ex-detective changed his place andwhispered hoarsely in his patron's ear.
"Say, don't you flash anything of that sort about here! That young coveright opposite to you is one of the best known sneak-thieves in thecity. You're asking for trouble that way."
"If he or any other of them want my watch," Sogrange answered calmly,"let them come and fetch it. However," he added, buttoning up his coat,"no doubt you are right. Is there anywhere else to take us?"
The man hesitated.
"There ain't much that you haven't seen," he remarked.
Sogrange laughed softly as he rose to his feet.
"A sell, my dear friend," he said to Peter. "This terrible city keepsits real criminal class somewhere else rather than in the show places."
A man who had been standing in the doorway, looking in for severalmoments, strolled up to them. Peter recognized him at once and touchedSogrange on the arm. The newcomer accosted them pleasantly.
"Say, you'll excuse my butting in," he began, "but I can see you're kindof disappointed. These suckers"--indicating the ex-detective--"talk alot about what they're going to show you, and when they get you round itall amounts to nothing. This is the sort of thing they bring you to, asrepresenting the wickedness of New York! That's so, Rastall, isn't it?"
The ex-detective looked a little sheepish.
"Yes, there ain't much more to be seen," he admitted. "Perhaps you'lltake the job on if you think there is."
"Well, I'd show the gentlemen something of a sight more interesting thatthis," the newcomer continued. "They don't want to sit down and drinkwith the scum of the earth."
"Perhaps," Sogrange suggested, "this gentleman has something in his mindwhich he thinks would appeal to us. We have a motor car outside and weare out for adventures."
"What sort of adventures?" the newcomer asked, bluntly.
Sogrange shrugged his shoulders lightly.
"We are lookers-on merely," he explained. "My friend and I have traveleda good deal. We have seen something of criminal life in Paris andLondon, Vienna and Budapest. I shall not break any confidence if I tellyou that my friend is a writer, and material such as this is useful."
The newcomer smiled.
"Well," he exclaimed, "in a way, it's fortunate for you that I happenedalong! You come right with me and I'll show you something that very fewother people in this city know of. Guess you'd better pay this fellowoff," he added, indicating the ex-detective. "He's no more use to you."
Sogrange and Peter exchanged questioning glances.
"It is very kind of you, sir," Peter decided, "but for my part I havehad enough for one evening."
"Just as you like, of course," the other remarked, with studiedunconcern.
"What sort of place would it be?" Sogrange asked.
The newcomer drew them on one side, although, as a matter of fact, everyone else had already melted away.
"Have you ever heard of the Secret Societies of New York?" he inquired."Well, I guess you haven't, any way--not to know anything about them.Well, then, listen. There's a Society meets within a few steps of here,which has more to do with regulating the criminal classes of the citythan any police establishment. There'll be a man there within an hour orso, who, to my knowledge, has committed seven murders. The police can'tget him. They never will. He's under our protection."
"May we visit such a place as you describe without danger?" Peter asked,calmly.
"No!" the man answered. "There's danger in going anywhere, it seems tome, if it's worth while. So long as you keep a still tongue in your headand don't look about you too much, there's nothing will happen to you.If you get gassing a lot, you might tumble in for almost anything. Don'tcome unless you like. It's a chance for your friend, as he's a writer,but you'd best keep out of it if you're in any way nervous."
"You said it was quite close?" Sogrange inquired.
"Within a yard or two," the man replied. "It's right this way."
They left the hall with their new escort. When they looked for theirmotor car, they found it had gone.
"It don't do to keep them things waiting about round here," their newfriend remarked, carelessly. "I guess I'll send you back to your hotelall right. Step this way."
"By the bye, what street is this we are in?" Peter asked.
"100th Street," the man answered.
Peter shook his head.
"I'm a little superstitious about that number," he declared. "Is that anelevated railway there? I think we've had enough, Sogrange."
Sogrange hesitated. They were standing now in front of a tall gloomyhouse, unkempt, with broken gate--a large but miserable-looking abode.The passers-by in the street were few. The whole character of thesurroundings was squalid. The man pushed open the broken gate.
"You cross the street right there to the elevated," he directed. "If youain't coming, I'll bid you good-night."
Once more they hesitated. Peter, perhaps, saw more than his companion.He saw the dark shapes lurking under the railway arch. He knewinstinctively that they were in some sort of danger. And yet the love ofadventure was on fire in his blood. His belief in himself was immense.He whispered to Sogrange.
"I do not trust our guide," he said. "If you care to risk it, I am withyou."
"Mind the broken pavement," the man called out. "This ain't exactly anabode of luxury."
They climbed some broken steps. Their guide opened a door with aYale key. The door swung to, after them, and they found themselves indarkness. There had been no light in the windows; there was no light,apparently, in the house. Their companion produced an electric torchfrom his pocket.
"You had best follow me," he advised. "Our quarters face out the otherway. We keep this end looking a little deserted."
They passed through a swing door and everything was at once changed. Amultitude of lamps hung from the ceiling, the floor was carpeted, thewalls clean.
"We don't go in for electric light," their guide explained, "as we trynot to give the place away. We manage to keep it fairly comfortable,though."
He pushed open the door and entered a somewhat gorgeously furnishedsalon. There were signs here of feminine occupation, an open piano, andthe smell of cigarettes. Once more Peter hesitated.
"Your friends seem to be in hiding," he remarked. "Personally, I amlosing my curiosity."
"Guess you won't have to wait very long," the man replied, with meaning.
The room was suddenly invaded on all sides. Four doors, which were quitehidden by the pattern of the wall, had opened almost simultaneously, andat least a dozen men had entered. This time both Sogrange and Peter knewthat they were face to face with the real thing. These were men who camesilently in, no cigarette-stunted youths. Two of them were in eveningdress; three or four had the appearance of prize fighters. In theircountenances was one expression common to all--an air of quiet andconscious strength.
A fair-headed man, in dinner jacket and black tie, became at once theirspokesman. He was possessed of a very slight American accent, and hebeamed at them through a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I am glad to meet you both."
"Very kind of you, I'm sure," Sogrange answered. "Our friend here," headded, indicating their guide, "found us trying to gain a little insightinto the more interesting part of New York life. He was kind enough toexpress a wish to introduce us to you."
The man smiled. He looked very much like some studious clerk, exceptthat his voice seemed to ring with some latent power.
"I am afraid," he said, "that your friend's interest in you was notentirely unselfish. For three days he has carried in his pocket an orde
rinstructing him to produce you here."
"I knew it!" Peter whispered, under his breath.
"You interest me," Sogrange replied. "May I know whom I have the honorof addressing?"
"You can call me Burr," the man announced, "Philip Burr. Your names itis not our wish to know."
"I am afraid I do not quite understand," Sogrange said.
"It was scarcely to be expected that you should," Mr. Philip Burradmitted. "All I can tell you is that, in cases like yours, I reallyprefer not to know with whom I have to deal."
"You speak as though you had business with us," Peter remarked.
"Without doubt, I have," the other replied, grimly. "It is my businessto see that you do not leave these premises alive."
Sogrange drew up a chair against which he had been leaning, and satdown.
"Really," he said, "that would be most inconvenient." Peter, too, shookhis head, sitting upon the end of a sofa and folding his arms. Somethingtold him that the moment for fighting was not yet.
"Inconvenient or not," Mr. Philip Burr continued, "I have orders tocarry out which I can assure you have never yet been disobeyed since theformation of our Society. From what I can see of you, you appear tobe very amiable gentlemen, and if it would interest you to choose themethod--say, of your release--why, I can assure you we'll do all we canto meet your views."
"I am beginning," Sogrange remarked, "to feel quite at home."
"You see, we've been through this sort of thing before," Peter added,blandly.
Mr. Philip Burr took a cigar from his case and lit it. At a motion ofhis hand, one of the company passed the box to his two guests.
"You're not counting upon a visit from the police, or anything of thatsort, I hope?" Mr. Philip Burr asked.
Sogrange shook his head.
"Certainly not," he replied. "I may say that much of the earlier portionof my life was spent in frustrating the well-meant but impossibleschemes of that body of men."
"If only we had a little more time," Mr. Burr declared, "it seems to meI should like to make the acquaintance of you two gentlemen."
"The matter is entirely in your own hands," Peter reminded him. "We arein no hurry."
Mr. Burr smiled genially.
"You make me think better of humanity," he confessed. "A month ago wehad a man here--got him along somehow or another--and I had to tell himthat he was up against it like you two are. My! the fuss he made! Kindof saddened me to think a man should be such a coward."
"Some people like that," Sogrange remarked. "By the bye, Mr. Burr,you'll pardon my curiosity. Whom have we to thank for our introductionhere to-night?"
"I don't know as there's any particular harm in telling you," Mr. Burrreplied--
"Nor any particular good," a man who was standing by his sideinterrupted. "Say, Phil, you drag these things out too much. Are thereany questions you've got to ask 'em, or any property to collect?"
"Nothing of the sort," Mr. Burr admitted.
"Then let the gang get to work," the other declared.
The two men were suddenly conscious that they were being surrounded.Peter's hand stole on to the butt of his revolver. Sogrange rose slowlyto his feet. His hands were thrust out in front of him with the thumbsturned down. The four fingers of each hand flashed for a minute throughthe air. Mr. Philip Burr lost all his self-control.
"Say, where the devil did you learn that trick?" he cried.
Sogrange laughed scornfully.
"Trick!" he exclaimed. "Philip Burr, you are unworthy of your position.I am the Marquis de Sogrange, and my friend here is the Baron de Grost."
Mr. Philip Burr had no words. His cigar had dropped on to the carpet. Hewas simply staring.
"If you need proof," Sogrange continued, "further than any I have givenyou, I have in my pocket, at the present moment, a letter, signed byyou yourself, pleading for formal reinstatement. This is how you wouldqualify for it! You make use of your power to run a common decoy house,to do away with men for money. What fool gave you our names, pray?"
Mr. Philip Burr was only the wreck of a man. He could not even controlhis voice.
"It was some German or Belgian nobleman," he faltered. "He brought usexcellent letters, and he made a large contribution. It was the Countvon Hern."
The anger of Sogrange seemed suddenly to fade away. He threw himselfinto a chair by the side of his companion.
"My dear Baron," he exclaimed, "Bernadine has scored, indeed! Yourfriend has a sense of humor which overwhelms me. Imagine it. He hasdelivered the two heads of our great Society into the hands of one ofits cast-off branches! Bernadine is a genius, indeed!"
Mr. Philip Burr began slowly to recover himself. He waved his hand. Nineout of the twelve men left the room.
"Marquis," he said, "for ten years there has been no one whom I havedesired to meet so much as you. I came to Europe but you declined toreceive me. I know very well we can't keep our end up like you overthere, because we haven't politics and that sort of things to playwith, but we've done our best. We've encouraged only criminology of thehighest order. We've tried all we can to keep the profession select. Thejail-bird, pure and simple, we have cast out. The men who have sufferedat our hands have been men who have met with their deserts."
"What about us?" Peter demanded. "It seems to me that you had mostunpleasant plans for our future."
Philip Burr held up his hands.
"As I live," he declared, "this is the first time that any moneyconsideration has induced me to break away from our principles. ThatCount von Hern, he had powerful friends who were our friends, and hegave me the word, straight, that you two had an appointment down belowwhich was considerably overdue. I don't know, even now, why I consented.I guess it isn't much use apologizing."
Sogrange rose to his feet.
"Well," he said, "I am not inclined to bear malice, but you mustunderstand this from me, Philip Burr. As a Society, I dissolve you.I deprive you of your title and of your signs. Call yourself what youwill, but never again mention the name of the 'Double-Four.' With us inEurope, another era has dawned. We are on the side of law and order. Weprotect only criminals of a certain class, in whose operations we havefaith. There is no future for such a society in this country. Therefore,as I say, I dissolve it. Now, if you are ready, perhaps you will be sogood as to provide us with the means of reaching our hotel."
Philip Burr led them into a back street, where his own handsomeautomobile was placed at their service.
"This kind of breaks me all up," he declared, as he gave theinstructions to the chauffeur. "If there were two men on the face ofthis earth whom I'd have been proud to meet in a friendly sort of way,it's you two."
"We bear no malice, Mr. Burr," Sogrange assured him. "You can, ifyou will do us the honor, lunch with us to-morrow at one o'clock atRector's. My friend here is quite interested in the Count von Hern, andhe would probably like to hear exactly how this affair was arranged."
"I'll be there, sure," Philip Burr promised, with a farewell wave of thehand.
Sogrange and Peter drove back towards their hotel in silence. It wasonly when they emerged into the civilized part of the city that Sograngebegan to laugh softly.
"My friend," he murmured, "you bluffed fairly well, but you were afraid.Oh, how I smiled to see your fingers close round the butt of thatrevolver!"
"What about you?" Peter asked, gruffly. "You don't suppose you took mein, do you?"
Sogrange smiled.
"I had two reasons for coming to New York," he said. "One weaccomplished upon the steamer. The other was--"
"Well?"
"To reply personally to this letter of Mr. Philip Burr," Sograngereplied, "which letter, by the bye, was dated from 15, 100th Street, NewYork. An ordinary visit there would have been useless to me. Somethingof this sort was necessary."
"Then you knew!" Peter gasped. "Notwithstanding all your bravado, youknew!"
"I had a very fair idea," Sogrange admitted. "Don't be annoyed with me,my friend. You have had a little exper
ience. It is all useful. It isn'tthe first time you've looked death in the face. Adventures come to somemen unasked. You, I think, were born with the habit of them."
Peter smiled. They had reached the hotel courtyard and he raised himselfstiffly.
"There's a little fable about the pitcher that went once too oftento the well," he remarked. "I have had my share of luck--more than myshare. The end must come sometime, you know."
"Is this superstition?" Sogrange asked.
"Superstition, pure and simple," Peter confessed, taking his key fromthe office. "It doesn't alter anything. I am fatalist enough to shrugmy shoulders and move on. But I tell you, Sogrange," he added, after amoment's pause, "I wouldn't admit it to any one else in the world, butI am afraid of Bernadine. I have had the best of it so often. Itcan't last. In all we've had twelve encounters. The next will be thethirteenth."
Sogrange shrugged his shoulders slightly as he rang for the lift.
"I'd propose you for the Thirteen Club, only there's some uncomfortableclause about yearly suicides which might not suit you," he remarked."Good-night, and don't dream of Bernadine and your thirteenthencounter."
"I only hope," Peter murmured, "that I may be in a position to dreamafter it."