CHAPTER IX
MELODRAMA IN THE SNOW
The justly celebrated moon that in summer months shed so much glamour onthe romances of Baldpate Inn was no where in evidence as Mr. Magee creptalong the ground close to the veranda. The snow sifted down upon him outof the blackness above; three feet ahead the world seemed to end.
"A corking night," he muttered humorously, "for my debut in the hold-upbusiness."
He swung up over the rail on to the veranda, and walked softly along ituntil he came to a window opening into the office. Cautiously he peeredin. The vast lonely room was lighted by a single candle. At the foot ofthe broad stair he could discern a great bulk, seated on the loweststep, which he correctly took to be the mayor of Reuton. Back of thedesk, on which stood the candle, Mr. Max's head and shoulders werevisible. He was working industriously in the immediate vicinity of thesafe door. Occasionally he consulted the small traveling-bag that stoodon the desk. Many other professions had claimed Mr. Max before hisadvent into Reuton politics; evidently he was putting into operation thetraining acquired in one of them. Mr. Bland was nowhere in sight.
Shivering with cold and excitement, Mr. Magee leaned against the side ofBaldpate Inn and waited. Mr. Max worked eagerly, turning frequently tohis bag as a physician might turn to his medicine-case. No word wasspoken in the office. Minutes passed. The bulk at the foot of the stairssurged restlessly. Mr. Max's operations were mostly hidden by the deskat which, in summer, timid old ladies inquired for their mail. Havingtime to think, Mr. Magee pictured the horror of those ladies could theycome up to the desk at Baldpate now.
Suddenly Mr. Max ran out into the center of the office. Almost on theinstant there was a white puff of smoke and a roar. The inn seemed aboutto roll down the mountain after all those years of sticking tight. Themayor looked apprehensively up the stair behind him; Mr. Max ran to theopen safe door and came back before the desk with a package in his hand.After examining it hastily, Mr. Cargan placed the loot in his pocket.The greedy eyes of Max followed it for a second; then he ran over andgathered up his tools. Now they were ready to depart. The mayor liftedthe candle from the desk. Its light fell on a big chair by the fire, andMr. Magee saw in that chair the figure of Mr. Bland, bound and gagged.
Mr. Cargan and his companion paused, and appeared to address triumphantand jesting comment in Mr. Bland's direction. Then they buttoned theircoats and, holding aloft the candle, disappeared through the dining-roomdoor.
"I must have that package." Standing on the balcony of Baldpate Inn, heryellow hair white with snow, her eyes shining even in shadow, thus hadthe lady of this weird drama spoken to Mr. Magee. And gladly he hadundertaken the quest. Now, he knew, the moment had come to act. Max hecould quickly dispose of, he felt; Cargan would require time andattention.
He hurried round to the front door of the inn, and taking the big keyfrom his pocket, unlocked it as a means of retreat where the men he wasabout to attack could not follow. Already he heard their muffled stepsin the distance. Crossing the veranda, he dropped down into the snow bythe side of the great stone steps that led to Baldpate Inn's chiefentrance.
He heard Cargan and Max on the veranda just above his head. They werespeaking of trains to Reuton. In great good humor, evidently, theystarted down the steps. Mr. Magee crouched, resolved that he wouldspring the moment they reached the ground. They were on the laststep--now!
Suddenly from the other side of the steps a black figure rose, a fistshot out, and Mr. Max went spinning like a whirling dervish down thesnowy path, to land in a heap five feet away. The next instant the mayorof Reuton and the black figure were locked in terrific conflict. Mr.Magee, astounded by this turn of affairs, could only stand and starethrough the dark.
For fifteen seconds, muttering, slipping, grappling, the two figureswaltzed grotesquely about in the falling snow. Then the mayor's feetslid from under him on the treacherous white carpet, and the two wentdown together. As Mr. Magee swooped down upon them he saw the hand ofthe stranger find the mayor's pocket, and draw from it the package thathad been placed there in the office a few moments before.
Unfortunately for the demands of the drama in which he had becomeinvolved, Mr. Magee had never been an athlete at the university. But hewas a young man of average strength and agility, and he had theadvantage of landing most unexpectedly on his antagonist. Before thatgentleman realized what had happened, Magee had wrenched the packagefrom his hand, thrown him back on the prostrate form of the highestofficial of Reuton, and fled up the steps. Quickly the stranger regainedhis feet and started in pursuit, but he arrived at the great front doorof Baldpate Inn just in time to hear the lock click inside.
Safe for the moment behind a locked door, Mr. Magee paused to get hisbreath. The glory of battle filled his soul. It was not until longafterward that he realized the battle had been a mere scuffle in thedark. He felt his cheeks burn with excitement like a sweet girlgraduate's--the cheeks of a man who had always prided himself he was theunmoved cynic in any situation.
With no thought for Mr. Bland, bound in his uneasy chair, Mr. Mageehurried up the broad staircase of Baldpate. Now came the most gorgeousscene of all. A fair-haired lady; a knight she had sent forth to battle;the knight returned. "You asked me to bring you this, my lady." Businessof surprise and joy on the lady's part--business also, perhaps, ofadoration for the knight.
At the right of the stairs lay seventeen and the lady, at the left asupposedly uninhabited land. As Mr. Magee reached the second floor,blithely picturing the scene in which he was to play so satisfactory apart--he paused. For half-way down the corridor to the left an open doorthrew a faint light into the hall, and in that light stood a woman hehad never seen before. In this order came Mr. Magee's impressions ofher, fur-coated, tall, dark, handsome, with the haughty manner of oneengaging a chauffeur.
"I beg your pardon," she said, "but are you by any chance Mr. Magee?"
The knight leaned weakly against the wall and tried to think.
"I--I am," he managed to say.
"I'm so glad I've found you," replied the girl. It seemed to the dazedMagee that her dark eyes were not overly happy. "I can not ask you in,I'm afraid. I do not know the custom on such an occasion--does anybody?I am alone with my maid. Hal Bentley, when I wrote to him for a key tothis place, told me of your being here, and said that I was to putmyself under your protection."
Mr. Magee arranged a bow, most of which was lost in the dark.
"Delighted, I'm sure," he murmured.
"I shall try not to impose on you," she went on. "The whole affair is sounusual as to be almost absurd. But Mr. Bentley said that you were--verykind. He said I might trust you. I am in great trouble. I have come hereto get something--and I haven't the least idea how to proceed. I camebecause I must have it--so much depends on it."
Prophetically Mr. Magee clutched in his pocket the package for which hehad done battle.
"I may be too late." The girl's eyes grew wide. "That would be terriblyunfortunate. I do not wish you to be injured serving me--" She loweredher voice. "But if there is any way in which you can help me in--in thisdifficulty--I can never be grateful enough. Down-stairs in the safethere is, I believe, a package containing a large sum of money."
Mr. Magee's hand closed convulsively in his pocket.
"If there is any way possible," said the girl, "I must obtain thatpackage. I give you my word I have as much right to it as any one whowill appear at the inn. The honor and happiness of one who is very dearto me is involved. I ask you--made bold as I am by my desperation andHal Bentley's assurances--to aid me if you find you can."
With the eyes of a man in a dream Mr. Magee looked into the face of thelatest comer to Baldpate.
"Hal Bentley is an old friend and a bully chap," he said. "It will be agreat pleasure to serve a friend of his." He paused, congratulatinghimself that these were words, idle words. "When did you arrive, may Iask?"
"I believe you were having dinner when I came," she answered. "Mr.Bentley gave me a key to the
kitchen door, and we found a back stairway.There seemed to be a company below--I wanted to see only you."
"I repeat," said Mr. Magee, "I shall be happy to help you, if I can."His word to another lady, he reflected, was binding. "I suggest thatthere is no harm in waiting until morning."
"But--I am afraid it was to-night--" she began.
"I understand," Magee replied. "The plans went wrong. You may safely letyour worries rest until to-morrow." He was on the point of addingsomething about relying on him, but remembered in time which girl he wasaddressing. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"
The girl drew the fur coat closer about her shoulders. She suggested toMagee a sheltered luxurious life--he could see her regaling young menwith tea before a fireplace in a beautiful room--insipid tea inthimble-like cups.
"You are very kind," she said. "I hardly expected to be here the nightthrough. It is rather cold, but I am sure we have rugs and coatsenough."
Mr. Magee's duty was clear.
"I'll build you a fire," he announced. The girl seemed distressed at thethought.
"No, I couldn't let you," she said. "I am sure it isn't necessary. Iwill say good night now."
"Good night. If there is anything I can do--"
"I shall tell you," she finished, smiling. "I believe I forgot to giveyou my name. I am Myra Thornhill, of Reuton. Until to-morrow." She wentin and closed the door.
Mr. Magee sat limply down on the cold stair. All the glory was gone fromthe scene he had pictured a moment ago. He had the money, yes, the moneyprocured in valiant battle, but at the moment he bore the prize to hislady, another appeared from the dark to claim it. What should he do?
He got up and started for number seventeen. The girl who waited therewas very charming and attractive--but what did he know about her? Whatdid she want with this money? He paused This other girl came from HalBentley, a friend of friends. And she claimed to have every right tothis precious package. What were her exact words?
Why not wait until morning? Perhaps, in the cold gray dawn, he would seemore clearly his way through this preposterous tangle. Anyhow, it wouldbe dangerous to give into any woman's keeping just then a package soearnestly sought by desperate men. Yes, he would wait until morning.That was the only reasonable course.
Reasonable? That was the word he used. A knight prating of thereasonable!
Mr. Magee unlocked the door of number seven and entered. Lighting hiscandles and prodding the fire, he composed a note to the waiting girl inseventeen:
"Everything all right. Sleep peacefully. I am on the job. Will see youto-morrow. Mr.--Billy."
Slipping this message under her door, the ex-knight hurried away toavoid an interview, and sat down in his chair before the fire.
"I must think," he muttered. "I must get this thing straight."
For an hour he pondered, threshing out as best he could this mysteriousgame in which he played a leading part unequipped with a book of rules.He went back to the very beginning--even to the station at UpperAsquewan Falls where the undeniable charm of the first of these girlshad won him completely. He reviewed the arrival of Bland and his babbleof haberdashery, of Professor Bolton and his weird tale of peroxideblondes and suffragettes, of Miss Norton and her impossible mother, ofCargan, hater of reformers, and Lou Max, foe of suspicion. He thought ofthe figure in the dark at the foot of the steps that had fought sosavagely for the package now in his own pocket--of the girl who hadpleaded so convincingly on the balcony for his help--of the colder, moresophisticated woman who came with Hal Bentley's authority to ask of himthe same favor. Myra Thornhill? He had heard the name, surely. Butwhere?
Mr. Magee's thoughts went back to New York. He wondered what they wouldsay if they could see him now, whirling about in a queer romance not ofhis own writing--he who had come to Baldpate Inn to get away from mereromancing and look into men's hearts, a philosopher. He laughed outloud.
"To-morrow is another day," he reflected. "I'll solve this whole thingthen. They can't go on playing without me--I've got the ball."
He took the package from his pocket. Its seals had already been broken.Untying the strings, he began carefully to unwrap the paper--the thickyellow banking manila, and then the oiled inner wrapping. So finally heopened up the solid mass of--what? He looked closer. Crisp, beautiful,one thousand dollar bills. Whew! He had never seen a bill of this sizebefore. And here were two hundred of them.
He wrapped the package up once more, and prepared for bed. Just as hewas about to retire, he remembered Mr. Bland, bound and gagged below. Hewent into the hall with the idea of releasing the unlucky haberdasher,but from the office rose the voices of the mayor, Max, and Blandhimself. Peace, evidently, had been declared between them. Mr. Mageereturned to number seven, locked all the windows, placed the much-soughtpackage beneath his pillow, and after a half-hour of puzzling andtossing, fell asleep.
It was still quite dark when he awoke with a start. In the blackness hecould make out a figure standing by the side of his bed. He put his handquickly beneath his pillow; the package was still there.
"What do you want?" he asked, sitting up in bed.
For answer, the intruder sprang through the door and disappeared in thedarkness of the outer room. Mr. Magee followed. One of his windowsslammed back and forth in the wind. Slipping on a dressing-gown andlighting a candle, he made an investigation. The glass above the lockhad been broken. Outside, in the snow on the balcony, were recentfootprints.
Sleepily Mr. Magee procured the precious package and put it in thepocket of his gown. Then drawing on his shoes, he added a greatcoat tohis equipment, took a candle, and went out on to the balcony.
The storm had increased; the snow flurried and blustered; the windows ofBaldpate Inn rattled wildly all about. It was difficult to keep thecandle burning in that wind. Mr. Magee followed the footprints along theeast side of the inn to the corner, then along the more sheltered rear,and finally to the west side. On the west was a rather unlovely annex tothe main building, which increasing patronage had made necessary. It wasconnected with the inn by a covered passageway from the second floorbalcony. At the entrance to this passageway the footprints stopped.
Entering the dark passageway, Mr. Magee made his way to the door of theannex. He tried it. It was locked. But as he turned away, he heardvoices on the other side.
Mr. Magee had barely enough time to extinguish his candle and slip intothe shadows of the corner. The door of the annex opened. A man steppedout into the passageway. He stood there The light from a candle held bysome one in the doorway whom Mr. Magee could not see fell full upon hisface--the bespectacled wise face of Professor Thaddeus Bolton.
"Better luck next time," said the professor.
"Keep an eye an him," said the voice from inside. "If he tries to leavethe inn there'll be a big row. We must be in on it--and win."
"I imagine," said Professor Bolton, smiling his academic smile, "thatthe inmates of Baldpate will make to-morrow a rather interesting day forhim."
"It will be an interesting day for every one," answered the voice.
"If I should manage to secure the package, by any chance," the professorwent on, "I shall undoubtedly need your help in getting away with it.Let us arrange a signal. Should a window of my room be open at any timeto-morrow, you will know the money is in my hands."
"Very good," replied the other. "Good night--and good luck."
"The same to you," answered Professor Bolton. The door was closed, andthe old man moved off down the passageway.
After him crept Mr. Magee. He followed the professor to the eastbalcony, and saw him pause at the open window of number seven. There theold man looked slyly about, as though in doubt. He peered into the room,and one foot was across the sill when Mr. Magee came up and touched himon the arm.
Professor Bolton leaped in evident fright out upon the balcony.
"It's--it's a wonderful night," he said. "I was out for a little walk onthe balcony, enjoying it. Seeing your open window, I was afraid-
-"
"The night you speak so highly of," replied Mr. Magee, "is at your left.You have lost your way. Good night, Professor."
He stepped inside and closed the window. Then he pulled down thecurtains in both rooms of his suite, and spent some time exploring.Finally he paused before the fireplace, and with the aid of a knifeunloosed a brick. Under this he placed the package of money, removingthe traces of his act as best he could.
"Now," he said, standing up, "I'm a regular hermit with a buriedtreasure, as per all hermit specifications. To-morrow I'm going to handmy treasure to somebody--it's too much for a man who came up here toescape the excitement and melodrama of the world."
He looked at his watch. It was past three o'clock. Entering the innerroom, for the second time that night he sought to sleep. "They can'tplay without me--I've got the ball," he repeated with a smile. And, safein this thought, he closed his eyes, and slumbered.