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THE SIGN AT SIX
By Stewart Edward White
With four illustrations by M. Leone Bracker
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I THE OWNER OF NEW YORKII THE SHADOW OF MYSTERYIII THE MOVING FINGER WRITESIV DARKNESS AND PANICV A SCIENTIST IN PINK SILKVI THE WRATH TO COMEVII A WORLD OF GHOSTSVIII PERCY DARROW'S THEORYIX THE GREAT SILENCEX THE LIFTING OF THE SPELLXI THIRTY SECONDS MOREXII THE UNKNOWNXIII DARROW'S CHALLENGEXIV THE FEAR OF DANGERXV THE MASTER SPEAKS AGAINXVI THE PROFESSOR'S EXPERIMENTXVII DRAWING THE NETXVIII CONFUSION WORSE CONFOUNDEDXIX PERCY KEEPS VIGILXX THE PLAGUE OF COLDXXI IN THE FACE OF ETERNITYXXII THE MAN NEXT DOORXXIII HOW IT ALL WASXXIV WHAT HAPPENED AFTERWARD
CHAPTER I
THE OWNER OF NEW YORK
Percy Darrow, a young man of scientific training, indolent manners,effeminate appearance, hidden energy, and absolute courage, loungedthrough the doors of the Atlas Building. Since his rescue from thevolcanic island that had witnessed the piratical murder of his oldemployer, Doctor Schermerhorn, the spectacular dissolution of themurderers, and his own imprisonment in a cave beneath the very roar of aneruption, he had been nursing his shattered nerves back to their normalstrength. Now he felt that at last he was able to go to work again.Therefore, he was about to approach a man of influence among practicalscientists, from whom he hoped further occupation.
As the express elevator shot upward, he passed a long slender hand acrosshis eyes. The rapid motion confused him still. The car stopped, and themetallic gates clanged open. Darrow obediently stepped forth. Only whenthe elevator had disappeared did his upward glance bring to him theknowledge that he had disembarked one floor too soon.
Darrow's eye fell on a lettered sign outside the nearest door. He smiled aslow red-lipped smile beneath his small silky mustache, drooped his blackeyelashes in a flicker of reminiscence, hesitated a moment, then steppedlanguidly forward and opened the door. The sign indicated the headquartersof the very modest commissionership behind which McCarthy chose to work.McCarthy, quite simply, at that time owned New York.
As Darrow entered, McCarthy hung up the telephone receiver with a smash,and sat glaring at the instrument. After a moment he turned his smallbright eyes toward the newcomer.
"Hello, Perc," he growled. "Didn't see you. Say, I'm so mad my skincracks. Just now some measly little shrimp called me up from a publicbooth. What ye suppose he wanted, now? Oh, nothin'! Just told me in somany words for me to pack up my little trunk and sail for Europe and nevercome back! That's all! He give me until Sunday, too." McCarthy barked outa short laugh, and reached for the cigar box, which he held out to Darrow.
Percy shook his head. "What's the occasion?" he asked.
"Says if I don't obey orders he'll send me a 'sign' to convince me!" wenton the boss. "He's got a mean voice. He ought to have a tag hung on himand get carried to the morgue. He give me the shivers, like a dead man. Inever hear such a unholy thing outside a graveyard at midnight!"
Percy Darrow was surveying him with leisurely amusement, a slight smileplaying over his narrow dark face.
"Talking to get back your nerve," he surmised cheerfully to the usuallytaciturn boss. "I'd like to know what it was got you going so; it isn'tmuch your style."
"Well, you got yours with you," growled McCarthy, shifting for the firsttime from his solid attitude of the bulldog at bay.
"His 'sign' he promised is apt to be a bomb," observed Darrow.
"He's nutty, all right," McCarthy agreed, "but when he said that, he wasdoing the tall religious. He's got a bug that way."
"Your affair," said Darrow. "Just the same, I'd have an outer office."
"Outer office--rot!" said the boss. "An outer office just gets clutteredup with people waiting. Here they've got to say it right out inmeeting--if I want 'em to. What's the good word, Perc? What can I do foryou?"
Darrow smiled. "You know very well, my fat friend, that the only reasonyou like me at all is that I'm the one and only man who comes into thisoffice who doesn't want one single thing of you."
"I suppose that's it," agreed McCarthy. The telephone rang. He snatcheddown the receiver, listened a moment, and thrust forward his heavy jowl."Not on your life!" he growled in answer to some question. While he wasstill occupied with the receiver, Percy Darrow nodded and sauntered out.