The pearl robbery had been of a later era — of a time after the two men had recovered as much as they could from the effects of the explosion, broken by their disaster physically and financially. To them in this condition, the dumb man had really seemed a link with the world. To one he provided ears, to the the other he gave eyes. He would help a lot, they thought, at first.
But the days of big jobs seemed to be over. Dummy was still a petty thief at heart, and for a time the two real crooks had no stomach for daring adventure. In the course of their picayunish pilfering they also learned that Dummy was not a man to be trusted. Deafy had seen him cheat the blind man and, without knowing the reason, Goggles had heard the deaf man give information which sent Dummy to the workhouse for a brief bit. That was the beginning of the disruption of what little of mutual honor had ever existed among these three thieves. Thereafter the combination conceived as a protection against society contracted into a closer and sullen trinity for protection against each other.
There were holes in the piecemeal story about this period — times when each of the men was strangely silent and grim about what had occurred. Something had happened. What it was neither of the physicians could find out, though they worked as skilfully with their wits as with their scalpels.
The attack upon Dr. Porter’s safe was commonplace enough, save for the personalities of the burglars themselves, when the facts were known. The pearls had been located in the usual way, by a servant girl known to the dumb man, through some queer channel. She had reported the make and location of the safe, the plan of the house and the habits of the household. She had been dismissed a few days before the departure of the doctor’s daughter. All would have been plain sailing but for the delay of old Martha in going to sleep.
As for the location of the stolen pearls themselves, that was riot quite so easy. An inept or too direct lead or question along this line might have caused alarm which would have spoiled everything. Hating one another as these three crooks undoubtedly did, they were still subjects of the code enough to have given a warning cry if they detected danger.
So the pearls themselves were still somewhat in the realm of deductive facts, although Porter felt certain of his ground. He felt sure that the blind man had none, the deaf man a few, and the dumb man the bulk of them. So certain was he of his ground that he sprang his trap on that basis.
The two private detectives, a police lieutenant of detectives and a stenographer were concealed in Dr. Robertson’s offices that night. The two physicians had brazenly broken their promise of secrecy to their three patients. Each had been ordered to report at a fixed time, and so firm now was their faith in the wonder-working specialists that they obeyed without doubt or question.
V
The deaf man was the first to arrive. As he entered the room, Dr. Porter was seated at a table toying with the remnant of his dead wife’s necklace. The sight of it startled the thief, but he recovered himself and took a seat in front of the doctor. Porter laid aside the pearls and turned to the man with his best professional air.
“How are you feeling, Mason?” he asked.
Deafy cupped one hand at his right ear as the doctor spoke, but answered the question readily.
“Fine, sir,” he answered, with a grin, “but hearing a whole lot better, thanks to you.”
“That’s good, but you needn’t thank me. There’s usually a good reason for anything a physician does. Very often he profits even more than the patient. All you have to do now is to take care of yourself and lead a regular life. I think it would be best-for you to keep out of the open air.”
With a queer smile, Porter again picked his pearls.
Deafy hesitated a moment, then coughed apologetically.
“You seem interested in pearls,” he said finally.
“Why, yes, rather,” Porter replied. “This is a small string belonging to a friend of mine who left them with me to see if I could find some others to match them.”
Again the thief hesitated and stammered a bit when he spoke.
“You remember, Doctor,” he said, “I told you I should like to make you a little present of jewelry if I was cured. It’s funny, but it’s some old pearls I’ve had a long time I was going to give you. Here they are, if you will take them. Maybe they’d match those of your friend’s”; and he laid six of the Porter treasures on the table.
The doctor’s hands trembled as he picked them up and examined them, but he managed to make some expression of thanks while he quickly strung them into their places with the others. He started to speak, but the doorbell rang, and with an injunction to Deafy to remain where he was he stepped into an adjoining room and closed the door.
It was the dumb man this time who was the opposite figure in a scene much like the one just enacted — a dumb man voluble in his thanks for the miracle of his cure. He, too, spoke for payment.
“Why, yes,” said Dr. Porter finally. “I believe you did say something to Dr. Robertson about paying a fee in case a cure would enable you to realize upon some valuable property you hold. What sort of property is it, if I may ask? Perhaps I might assist you.”
“Well, you see, sir, it’s some pearls,” the dumb man said. “These here pearls. I can’t talk very good yet from being so long out of practice. So if you could take these and get me the money on them I’d be only too glad to divide with you,” and he laid eighteen of the Porter pearls on the table.
“It’s a strange thing,” said the physician, “but I do know just where to place these pearls. We’ll talk about the division of profit later.”
Before the amazed eyes of the thief, he drew the growing necklace from his pocket and began to replace the missing half of it.
“What — where — how—” spluttered Dummy. Then the door opened and Dr. Robertson ushered Deafy into the room.
For a second the two men glared at each other, too amazed to speak. Then a frown gathered like a storm on the brows of Deafy and he advanced threateningly toward the table upon which lay the pearls.
“You snitch,” he growled, struggling to raise his voice beyond its usual monotone. “Doc, this sneak here stole these pearls. I bought part of them from him and I—”
“You lie,” screamed Dummy. “You stole them yourself out at that doctor’s house!”
“Don’t you believe him, Doc,” growled Deafy, and then the two fell back in amazement, silenced by the discovery that one was talking and the other hearing what was said.
The door opened again. This time the young physician led into the room a bulky man with a beard and bandaged eyes, at whom the other two stared, not so much in surprise as in threatening understanding. Between the two — the once deaf and the once dumb — there passed a look which offered and accepted a new defensive alliance of two against one.
“Mr. Clark,” said Dr. Porter, “there seems to be a difference of opinion here. Do you know these two gentlemen?”
At the question, Goggles lifted the bandage from his eyes, blinked a little at the light, then opened his mouth in consternation at the two men he saw glowering at him. Before he could speak his new-found eyes caught the pearls the physician was still stringing.
“Know them!” he shouted. “Yes, I know the crooks — the double thieves. They stole these pearls and then they stole them from me — stole the share of a poor, helpless blind man. But I can see now and I’ll see you in prison again.”
Dummy whipped out a knife and sprang for Goggles, but before he could reach him curtains parted and he was seized by the police lieutenant, while the room seemed to fill with men.