The Bandbox

“So that’s it!” she said reflectively.

“That is it, precisely. I am in communication with the person who stole your necklace; she’s willing to return it for a reward of reasonable size.”

“She? You mean Miss Searle?”

The man made a deprecating gesture. “Please don’t ask me to name the lady…”

“I knew it!” Alison cried triumphantly.

“You puppy!” Staff exclaimed. “Haven’t you the common manhood to shoulder the responsibility for your crimes yourself?”

“Tush,” said the man gently – “tush! Not a pretty way to talk at all – calling names! I’m surprised. Besides, I ought to know better than you, acting as I do as agent for the lady in question.”

“That’s a flat lie,” said Staff. “If you repeat it – I warn you – I’ll jump you as sure ’s my name’s Staff, pistol or no pistol!”

“Aren’t you rather excited in your defence of this woman?” Alison turned on him with a curling lip.

“I’ve a right to my emotions,” he retorted – “to betray them as I see fit.”

“And I,” Ismay put it, “to my freedom of speech – ”

“Not in my rooms,” Staff interrupted hotly. “I’ve warned you. Drop this nonsense about Miss Searle if you want to stop here another minute without a fight. Drop it! Say what you want to say to Miss Landis – and get out!”

He was thoroughly enraged, and his manner of expressing himself seemed to convince the thief. With a slight shrug of his shoulders he again addressed himself directly to Alison.

“In the matter of the reward,” he said, “we’re of the opinion that you’ve offered too little by half. Twenty thousand at the least – ”

“You forget I have the duty to pay.”

“My dear lady, if you had not been anxious to evade payment of the duty you would be enjoying the ownership of your necklace today.”

As he spoke the telephone-bell rang. Staff turned away to his desk, Ismay’s voice pursuing him with the caution.

“Don’t forget about that open drawer – keep your hands away from it.”

“Oh, be quiet,” returned Staff contemptuously. Standing with his back to them, he took up the instrument and lifted off the receiver.

“Hello?” he said irritably.

He was glad that his face was not visible to his guests; he could restrain a start of surprise, but was afraid his expression would have betrayed him when he recognised the voice at the other end of the line as Iff’s.

“Don’t repeat my name,” it said quickly in a tone low but clear. “That is Iff. Ismay still there?”

“Yes,” said Staff instantly: “it’s I, Harry. How are you?”

“Get rid of him as quick ’s you can,” Iff continued, “and join me here at the Park Avenue. I dodged down the fire-escape and caught his motor-car; his chauffeur thinks I’m him. I’ll wait in the street – Thirty-third Street side, with the car. Now talk.”

“All right,” said Staff heartily; “glad to. I’ll be there.”

“Chauffeur knows where Nelly is, I think; but he’s too big for me to handle alone, in case my foot slips and he gets suspicious. That’s why I need you. Bring your gun.”

“Right,” Staff agreed promptly. “The club in half an hour. Yes, I’ll come. Good-bye.”

He turned back toward Ismay and Alison, his doubts resolved, all his vague misgivings as to this case of double identity settled finally and forever.

“Alison,” he said, breaking in roughly upon something Ismay was saying to the girl, “you’ve a cab waiting outside, haven’t you?”

Alison stared in surprise. “Yes,” she said in a tone of wonder.

Staff paused beside the divan, one hand resting upon the topmost of a little heap of silken cushions. “Mind if I borrow it?” he asked, ignoring the man.

“No, but – ”

“It’s business – important,” said Staff. “I’ll have to leave you here at once. Only” – he watched Ismay closely out of the corners of his eyes – “if I were you I wouldn’t waste any more time on this fellow. He’s bluffing – can’t carry out anything he promises.”

Ismay turned toward him, expostulant.

“What d’ you mean by that?” he demanded.

“Miss Searle has escaped,” said Staff deliberately.

“No!” cried Ismay, startled and thrown off his guard by the fear it might be so. “Impossible!”

“Think so?” As he spoke Staff dextrously snatched up the uppermost pillow and with a twist of his hand sent it whirling into the thief’s face.

It took him utterly unawares. His arms flew up too late to ward it off, and he staggered back a pace.

“Lots of impossible things keep happening all the time,” chuckled Staff as he closed in.

There was hardly a struggle. Staff’s left arm clipped the man about the waist at the same time that his right hand deftly abstracted the pistol from its convenient pocket. Then, dropping the weapon into his own pocket, he transferred his hold to Ismay’s collar and spun him round with a snap that fairly jarred his teeth.

“There, confound you!” he said, exploring his pockets for other lethal weapons and finding nothing but three loaded clips ready to be inserted in the hollow butt of the pistol already confiscated. “Now what ’m I going to do with you, you blame’ little pest?”

The question was more to himself than to Ismay, but the latter, recovering with astonishing quickness, answered Staff by suddenly squirming out of his coat and leaving it in his assailant’s hands as he ducked to the door and flung himself out.

Staff broke into a laugh as the patter of the little man’s feet was heard on the stairs.

“Resourceful beggar,” he commented, going to the window and rolling up the coat as he went. He reached it just in time to see the thief dodge out.

The coat, opening as it descended, fell like a blanket round Ismay’s head. He stumbled, tripped and fell headlong down the steps, sprawling and cursing.

“Thought you might need it,” Staff apologised as the man picked himself up and darted away.

He turned to confront an infuriated edition of Alison.

“Why did you do that?” she demanded with a stamp of her foot. “What right had you to interfere? I was beating him down; in another minute we’d have come to terms – ”

“Oh, don’t be silly, my dear,” said Staff, taking his revolver from the desk-drawer and placing it in the hip-pocket of tradition. “To begin with, I don’t mind telling you I don’t give much of a whoop whether you ever get that necklace back or not.” He grabbed his hat and started for the door. “What I’m interested in is the rescue of Miss Searle, if you must know; and that’s going to happen before long, or I miss my guess.” He paused at the open door. “If we get her, we get the necklace, of course – and the Lord knows you’ll be welcome to that. Would you mind turning out the lights before you go?”