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There was hardly any use now in going to Kenleigh's, for, if the detective was really bound for there, it made his, Jimmie Dale's, errand useless the summoning of the Headquarters' man was prima facie evidence that the robbery had already been committed. And yet a certain grim curiosity remained. Just how had it been done?
And then Jimmie Dale smiled a little whimsically. They were both bound for the same place, he and Meighan, of Headquarters Kenleigh's apartment, that was a little way further on there along the Avenue. A short distance behind the other, but on the opposite side of the street, Jimmie Dale followed the detective.
As though he could not have read aright, he read again; disjointed words and phrases muttered audibly: "... Afraid not in time ... hurry ... this afternoon ... the Magpie and Virat ... Kenleigh, insurance broker ... safe in Kenleigh's house ... ground floor left ... one hundred thousand dollars ... bonds ... will try it ... Meighan of headquarters ... half-past one at Virat's ... Gray Seal ... Larry the Bat ... if dangerous, keep away ..."
Well, the game was of Virat's choosing and they would play it out now to the end, Virat and the Gray Seal, if it was the last act of his, Jimmie Dale's, life! It was only a question now of whether or not Virat had completed all his work, of whether there was yet time to get to Kenleigh's. It was close to midnight, as Jimmie Dale came out on Washington Square.
Kenleigh's story meanwhile.... I'll be here till you 'phone.... Yes.... All right!" Meighan hung up the receiver, sat down in a chair, and motioned toward another that was close alongside the desk. "Turn out the light, Mr. Kenleigh," he said abruptly; "and sit down here." Kenleigh looked his amazement. "Turn out the light?" he repeated perplexedly. "Yes," Meighan nodded. "And at once, please."
"I don't know, unless he stood in with the bond firm's messenger; that's the only way in which I could account for it," said Kenleigh huskily. "And I've no right to say that God knows I've no wish to get an innocent man into trouble. I've no proof but I can't see any other solution." Kenleigh's voice broke. He seemed to steady himself with an effort.
"Anybody see you do that?" queried Meighan quickly. "No; I don't see how they could. I've only a small one-room office, and there was nobody there but myself." "And so they kind of got your goat, and you figured the safest thing to do was to bring them home with you?" suggested Meighan. "Yes." There was a miserable note of dejection in Kenleigh's voice. "Yes; that's what I did.
He had been pulling the mattress away from the front of the safe, and now, with a sharp, exultant exclamation, he stooped quickly and picked up a small object from the floor. He held it out, twirling It between thumb and forefinger, for Kenleigh's inspection a flashy scarf pin, horseshoe-shaped, of blatantly imitation diamonds. Kenleigh shook his head bewilderingly.
"He commissioned me to get them for him." Kenleigh's voice was agitated as he continued. "I telephoned Thorpe, LeLand and Company, the brokers, where I was personally known, explained the circumstances, and placed the order. My client was to give me a check for the amount on the delivery of the bonds to him.
"Headquarters?... Meighan speaking from Kenleigh's apartment... Get a drag out for the Magpie on the jump.... Eh?... Yes!... Left his visiting card.... What?... Yes, wound a mattress around the box and souped it; his scarf pin must have caught in the ticking and pulled out.... Sure, that's the one the horseshoe found it on the floor.... What?... Yes, the chances are ten to one he will, it's his only play.... All right, I'll get Mr.
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