"I did,"with a gesture of meek acknowledgment. "He mastered me with his cunning. Not a thing escaped him—every weakness, every shrinking, every faltering I had, seemed known to him; he kept me in an agony of suspense; rather than be hampered and embarrassed by him at every turn I tried to get rid of him by giving him money."
"It would take near all the money in the world to drive away a coyote like that,"said Bat.
"I soon found that out,"said Nora Cavanaugh. "For from that time on I was haunted by him; he kept demanding of me, and I never had the moral courage to refuse him until last night."
"Last night!"Bat found himself staring at her. "Did you see him last night?"
She looked at him suddenly, and there was a startled sort of look in the wide brown eyes, a fleeting expression of fear; and at the same time her hand went to her breast in a convulsive movement.
"Yes,"she said, and her voice had sunk to a whisper. "He came last night after I returned from the theatre. My maid had instructions not to admit him, but he pushed her aside and came directly to my room."
"You're right,"said Bat Scanlon, glowering, "he had a way with him. It's a pity you hadn't a brother—or some one—all these years to take care of you. His study of women would have done him little good if he had had a man to meet."
"He wanted money,"said Nora. "He was wheedling and threatening by turns; he did everything he had ever done before, and more. I don't know what gave me the resolution—perhaps it was the way he forced his presence upon me—but anyhow, I refused him."
"He went away empty handed,"said Scanlon, gleefully. "Good!"
"I gave him nothing,"said Nora. "And I think he saw in my attitude what the future was to be; for when he left me he wore a look I had never seen upon his face before."
"Well,"and the big trainer expelled a great breath, "it won't make much difference now what he thought; he'll never bother you again."
"No,"she repeated, "he'll never bother me again—never!"The beautiful voice quavered and grew faint as she said this; and the hand was still held tightly against her breast.
"What do you want me to do, Nora?"said the man. "A fellow who was brought up outside, as I have been, is not much at comforting a woman."
"Bat,"said the girl, and the hand left her breast and rested upon his arm, "it has eased my heart just to hear you speak. You were always good to me—always. But to-day you have given me courage—when I needed it so badly."There was a little pause; she came closer to him, and now both her hands were upon his arm, the two beautiful, capable hands, whose whiteness had always amazed him; the faint perfume which always clung about her was in his nostrils, and the brown eyes, so perfectly spaced, so wonderfully colored, were opened wide and regarding him steadily. "There are two things I want you to do, Bat,"she said, "and they are not at all difficult. You are acquainted in the detective department, and I wish you would ask them not to bother me any more. If they do,"and here he felt the two white hands flutter and heard her breath drawn in sharply, "I shall break down with fright."
"I'll fix it,"the man assured her. "Leave it to me."
"Thank you, Bat; you're the best creature in the world,"she said gratefully. "And, too, I want you to go to Stanwick. I would like you to see what the police are doing—everything you can. They must have found out something by this time. Ask questions and keep your eyes open. And when you have it all, come to me at once and let me know."
"Sure,"said he, "I'll go right away."
"Thank you."She drew the rich cloak about her and then held out her hand. "You're a dear, good fellow, Bat; I've always known that, but now I'm surer of it than ever."
"Why, Nora, it's not hard to do things for you,"said he, as he held the hand for a moment.
"And you'll hurry?"Her eyes were full of pleading. "You'll find out everything you can—but you'll hurry, won't you?"
"As soon as I've looked things over carefully,"said he, "you'll hear me at your door."
"Thank you, again,"she said. "And good-bye."
And as the door closed behind her, Bat Scanlon stood in the middle of the floor, his arms folded across his big chest.
"Cop stuff,"said he, to himself. "What do you think of that?"
When he returned once more to the room in which he had left the others, Scanlon found Dennison buttoning up his top-coat.
"I'll be in to-morrow,"said the man; "and my togs will be sent around to-day."
When he had departed, Scanlon looked at Ashton-Kirk.
"I guess you'll have to take your work-out with the big Greek,"said he. "Stanwick's my next stop; and I'm going to get the first train."
"Stanwick?"Ashton-Kirk's keen eyes regarded him inquiringly.
"Funny thing, ain't it? Here I didn't know a thing about this murder, and then I get it piled in on me from two places. That was Tom Burton's wife just in to see me—Nora Cavanaugh."
"Oh, yes, to be sure. She is—or was—his wife, wasn't she?"
"She had a fine lot of excitement with her. Dennison ain't the only one who saw Burton last night. He called on Nora after the show, and wanted money, as, it seems, he always did. But she refused him and he went away sore."
"He was an utter scamp,"said Ashton-Kirk. "It's rather remarkable, though, how he managed to keep just outside the reach of the law."
"Nora's been pestered by the cops, and she wants me to have them called off,"said Bat. "And she's asked me to go out to Stanwick and see what they are doing there."
"The police?"
"Yes. I don't know just what it's all about; but Nora knows, and that's enough for me."
Ashton-Kirk smiled as the big man went to a closet and took out a long coat and a soft hat.
"Miss Cavanaugh is fortunate in the control of such an obedient geni,"said he, quietly. "But good luck on your trip; and while you are gone, I'll grapple with the Greek, as you suggest."
CHAPTER III
THE CLOUD GROWS DARKER
Stanwick was a "made"suburb; ten years before its site had been occupied by farms; but a keen-eyed realty man had seen promise in it and bought it up, shrewdly. The streets were wide, the walks were narrow and lined with trees that would one day spread nobly. The houses were built in rows, each independent of the other, mounted upon little terraces, fronted by guards of iron railing and prim little flower gardens. Bat Scanlon, as he regarded it, nodded knowingly.
"It's the kind of a place where the seven-twenty is the chief topic in the morning, and the five-fifteen in the afternoon,"he told himself. "The habits of the rubber plant are common property; and every man in every street thinks his roses have it all over the man's next door."
Duncan Street proved much like the others; and No. 620 had all the characteristics to be expected of it. When Scanlon stopped before it he found a little group of idlers standing on the walk, each member of which stared at him with a curiosity that was active and acute.
"Hello, Kelly!"saluted Bat, as he recognized a portly policeman at the little iron gate.
"How are you, Bat?"responded the policeman, in a surprised tone. "What are you doing away out here?"
"Just thought I'd run out and take a look around,"said Scanlon. He had seen to the training of the athletic team of the police department for several years, and was well known to most of the officials and many of the patrolmen. And it just happened that the man on guard at the gate, due to Bat's instructions, had been the winner of the heavyweight wrestling