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Rockamore and Mr. Mallowe," Anita Lawton read aloud from the cards he presented. "Oh, I can't see them now. Tell them, Wilkes, that my minister is with me, and they must forgive me for denying myself to them." The butler retired, and the Rev. Dr.
At that moment Blaine stepped from behind the bookcase and confronted him. "You have succeeded in regaining your bottle, haven't you, Mr. Rockamore?" he asked, significantly. "Are you surprised to find within it the blood of an innocent man?" Rockamore turned to him slowly, his dazed, horror-stricken eyes protruding more than ever. "Blood?" he repeated, thickly, as if scarcely understanding.
At nine o'clock precisely, Henry Blaine presented himself at Rockamore's door. As he had anticipated he was admitted at once and ushered into the Englishman's presence as if his coming had been expected. "I say, Blaine, what the devil do you mean by this game you're playing?" Rockamore demanded, as he stood erect and perfectly poised upon the hearth, and faced the detective.
Of course the others would be glad to help me out, but I thought I'd come to you first, since I well, I know you better. "'How much do you want? "'Only ten thousand. I've got a tip on the market and if I can raise the coin before the stock soars and buy on margin, I'll make a fine little coup. Want to come in on it, Rockamore? "'Go to the devil!
The lights are flaring in the windows of his rooms, and you can see his shadow he's pacing up and down like a caged animal!" "All right, Suraci. Go back and tell Ross to have one of his men telephone to me at once if Rockamore leaves his rooms before nine. That will be all for you to-night. I've got to do the rest of the work myself."
"Unpleasant, wasn't it?" he asked grimly. "I try to school myself against it, but with all my experience, a scene like this makes me sick at heart. I know the wretch deserves what is coming to him, just as Rockamore knew when he unfalteringly sped that bullet just as Carlis knew when he heard his own voice repeated by the dictagraph.
"I merely wanted to assure myself that you would not leave the city until I had obtained sufficient data with which to approach you," the detective responded, imperturbably. "I have come to-night for a little talk with you, Mr. Rockamore. I trust I am not intruding?" "Not at all. As a matter of fact, after to-day's incidents I was rather expecting you."
Then a realization of the situation dawned upon him, and he demanded, hoarsely: "Who are you? What are you doing here?" "My name is Blaine, and I am here to arrest the murderer of Pennington Lawton," the detective replied, his dominant tones ringing through the room. "Blaine Henry Blaine!" Rockamore stepped back a pace or two, and a sneer curled his thin lips, although his face had suddenly paled.
Rockamore waved his unbidden guest to a chair, and produced a gold cigarette-case. "Smoke? You perhaps prefer cigars no? A brandy and soda?" "Thank you, no. With your permission, I will get right down to business. It will simplify matters for both of us if you are willing to answer some questions I wish to put to you; but, of course, there is no compulsion about it.
Anita scarcely glanced at it, but laid it quietly by upon the table, as though it were of small interest to her. "Mr. Mallowe, although I understand that Mr. Rockamore, being a promoter, was more closely associated with my father in various projects than you, I believe that he always considered you his best friend.
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