“Sure,” I replied. “I’ve got a fine assortment, Santelle. One in particular, a near-graduate of a correspondence school of prominence, the name of which slips me just now, who could loaf all evening in the lobby of the Ritz and never attract attention. His middle name is Etiquette.
“He’ll do you proud in the role of mingler, and Jim Steel, my right-hand man, will absolutely guarantee to take care of any one attempting to violate the privacy of your bedchamber, and do it without even disturbing your slumber. When do they report?”
“You’re not spoofing me?” Flash queried, evidently shying off on account of my clumsy attempt at light comedy. “This thing is serious, old chap.”
“Flash,” I said soberly, and in absolute sincerity, “you are about the last man on earth I’d undertake to kid. My manner of speech does not always indicate my real sentiments. If I take your money I’ll earn it in a manner absolutely satisfactory to you, or I’ll give it back.”
His face cleared immediately, and he laughed. “It seems like old times, that ‘Flash,’ ” he was good enough to say. “All that is behind me, though thanks to the kindness of Uncle Cato.”
“And we report when?” I repeated the question.
“Monday morning. The guests will begin arriving in the afternoon. You will want your men to have a chance to look over the ground, of course. Send them along as early as you can. Now, as to the fee?”
I named it, and he paid it. That was satisfactory. Jim Steel and Art Garrett would deliver what had been bought, and no mistake about it. Reliable, efficient, I could always trust that pair.
“By the way,” I was reminded as Flash arose to depart, “the letter from your old acquaintance, the three-fingered party — got it with you?”
“Yes,” he answered, taking out a note-case. “Clear forgot to submit it. A sort of exhibit to prove my case eh?” he finished good-naturedly.
“Do you blame me?” I came back.
“Not in the least. You will discover, let me earnestly assure you, that I’m genuine in the matter. There is no hug under a chip, and so far as I’m informed, nothing dead and unburied in Denmark. I’m on the level when I tell you I need help.”
The letter bore him out. It exhibited a St. Louis postmark, had been laboriously picked out on a typewriter, and its contents jibed with what Flash had told me, even to the sketch at the bottom of the page.
“I’ll have my men on the job early Monday morning. Anything else?” I queried, returning the letter.
“That about covers everything,” he replied. “Thank you. Glad to be able to do business with you, I’m sure.”
I didn’t miss the emphasis he put on the “with,” and the grin he gave me at departing left me chuckling in real enjoyment. Whatever else Flash might be, he certainly was a pleasant, understanding chap.
I often wonder, as I review the case of Flash Santelle, what the outcome of the next week would have been had my plans gone according to schedule. They did not, however. Art Garrett, cast for the role of mixer, got into an unfortunate argument, in the course of duty, with a proprietor of a night club — and the proprietor beaned him with it. That put Art in a hospital, and me in a hole. But not in the hole for long.
There simply had to be a mingler present at Willow Bend, in order to carry out my contract, so, lacking a better one, I attired myself in a dress suit and a pair of forty-five’s, and decided to mingle.
Chapter VI
The Cast Assembles
Jim Steel indulged a hot line of entertaining comment while I arrayed myself that Monday night at Willow Bend — entertaining to him, I mean. I could have managed without it.
What Jim didn’t know was that I’d had a fling at a manner of living outside his ken, long before I ever saw him, and the claw-hammer duds were not exactly being introduced into my career for the first time that night. I’d performed in ’em before, and nobody had ever called for the hook. Nobody would have occasion to on this appearance, either. But Jim didn’t know that.
“Talk about things you know something about,” I told him, beginning the process of spoiling my fourth tie. “For; instance, what did you learn while strolling over the fields, among the daisies and the daffodils, to-day?”
Jim had reached Willow Bend early that morning, I joining him in the afternoon. It had been up to him to get the lie of the land and then report to me.
“For one thing,” he began, “this is about the loneliest location I ever happened on. A mile from the highway, and in the middle of about six hundred and forty acres of land. Not a neighboring chalet to be seen. River makes a bend and skirts the north side of the tract, but where the willows are I haven’t been able to determine.
“Back of the house, clear to the western limits, lies a good deal of cultivable land. All the rest — about one-fourth of the whole — is trees, hills and hollows.
“A path, pretty well grown up in weeds after it leaves the lawn, leads from the front door down through the hollows to the boathouse. Lot of boats there, including a couple of high-powered launches. So much for the topographical survey.
“We now pass to the domestic observations. Uncle Cato’s butler is a reformer crook — and, if I’m any judge of such matters, he was badly in need of reformation when he took down with it. Hard-looking customer, but appears to know bulling clear down to the grass roots.
“There are two chauffeurs, a boatman, two gardeners, a footman, two maids, a cook, and a party that calls himself a farmer. He looks the part. That is about all I have learned, and observed, up to date.
“But that ain’t saying I haven’t got a few ideas about this business that can stand airing,” he went on. “Take it from me, this Flash is framing something. He’s a crook, from the cradle to the grave. Smooth, I’ll admit, but that’s what has kept him alive and out of jail — smoothness.
“I saw him perform when the Baileys arrived — and on the path to the boathouse afterward, when there was only one of the Baileys visible. I mean the daughter and sole heir. It’s been a long time since I made any love to anybody, but I’m still able to recognize signs when I see ’em.
“Not saying, mind you, that this Flash is in love with the girl — not a bit of it. But she’s all mired down in it herself. Had hold of one of his arms with both of her hands, and clinging like the well-known wistaria. Eyes all shiny, face flushed, drinking in his line of bull with eyes, ears, and all the rest of her senses — except maybe that sixth one we hear so much about. Trouble there, Tug — for the girl and old man Bailey. Maybe for Flash. Watch ’em.”
“Anything else?” I grunted, besting the tie at last.
“Ain’t that enough?” Jim demanded truculently. “Remember, I ain’t been here a week. Just part of one day.”
“That’s a fact, now you mention it, Jim,” I agreed. “Now, get this: Don’t do any night time snoozing while you’re guarding Flash. You can sleep all you want to in the daytime. I’d suggest that you provide yourself with a lot of light literature — Henty, Oliver Optic, and the like. Something that won’t tax you too much. Settle down in Flash’s sitting-room, which is admirably situated for the purpose of watching the only door leading onto the corridor. The bed room has no exit except through the sitting-room.
“Read, but don’t fall asleep while doing it. Tell Flash, if he gets inquisitive, that I’ve ordered you to watch over him carefully, and that you can’t carry out the order while doing a Morpheus.
“Get this, too: If Flash leaves that bedroom, after he has announced his intention of retiring, you go with him. My orders again, if he objects. Don’t let him out of your sight, except in the bedroom. I’m thinking he won’t try anything like that, but you never can tell.