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Moved by a strange mingling of anger, curiosity and jealousy, Gard's first act on entering his library was to telephone to a well known detective agency no surprising thing on his part, for not infrequently he made use of their services to obtain sundry details as to the movements of his opponents, and when, as often happened, cranks threatened the thorny path of wealth and prominence, he had found protection with the plain clothes men.
His men were on the spot and reporting to him; but that could not make up for personal investigation. In view of these new developments, what would be Mrs. Marteen's next move? Some secret bond connected the three Mahr, Gard and Mrs. Marteen. Brencherly, alone in Gard's library, rose and paced the room, glancing at the desk clock every time his line of march took him past the table.
And Tom stopped again by one of the pinnacles and sought another rock, and flung it, and it dropped slowly from point to point till it landed on the shingle three hundred feet below. He stood there in the dim light, cursing volubly in patois and shaking his fist at Gard; but at last, to Gard's great relief, he humped his back and stumbled away up the cutting on the further side.
He had scarcely dreamed of such things in a girl. It was all illustrated by Gard's piano playing, which was cheap and meaningless strumming. He could rattle through a lot of popular tunes and stumble through a few short simple school-girl salon pieces. The Buchers were a real orchestra.
It was a masterly piece of work. Gard metaphorically took off his hat to the German Secret Service. Notwithstanding the Jim Deming episode and Anderson's animadversions, this had been a highly expert demonstration of the art. Gard's mind went over his whole trip from Eisenach, trying to find where his suspicions should have been more aroused.
Brencherly bowed with awkward diffidence. Gard's manner was ease and cordiality itself, but his heart misgave him. So much depended upon the outcome of this meeting. He would not let himself dwell upon its possibilities, but faced the situation with grim determination. "Well, Field," he said genially, "let me thank you for coming. You are tired, I know.
That's one way to fool the German bed. If I saw yours I might be able to suggest something." Anderson frankly expressed a desire to visit the Loschwitz home. So on Gard's invitation they had lunch and went out to his suburb. They took off the bed clothes, including the two huge feather bolsters in the center.
Hamon had sprung up with clasped hands and piteous face. Nance and Bernel had sprung up also, with distress in their faces but still more of interest. They had come to a certain reliance on Gard's powers, and how many and many a time had they longed to be able to give Tom a well-deserved thrashing! Through the open door of her room came Grannie's hard little voice, "Now then! Now then!
"We could manage it all right," said Nance, "if " and then, in spite of herself, she could not keep that telltale mouth of hers in order, and the attempt to repress a smile only emphasized the dimples at the corners. For Gard's face was as eager as a dog's at sight of a rat.
And as he ate he thought, slowly and ruminatingly, and with many pauses, when his jaws stopped working to give his mind freer play, but still very much to the purpose, and as soon as he had done he set out to put his project into execution. Just beyond the Coupée he met Gard hurrying towards Sark, and the state of Gard's nose and eye, and his torn coat, caught his eye at once.
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