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Poritol finally hit on the device which you have seen. It fitted in well with his sense of the theatrical; and the detective says that there was not a scrap of paper at hand. The point was that Mr. Poritol was more afraid of delay than anything else. He knew that I would put someone on his track." "When did all this happen?" asked Orme. "Yesterday afternoon. Mr.
The refusal of the other Japanese to accept the girl's offer of money for the papers had given Orme a new idea of the importance of the quest. Maku and his friend must be Japanese government agents just as Poritol and Alcatrante were unquestionably acting for their government. This, at least, was the most probable explanation that entered Orme's mind.
As for the car, Mr. Poritol sent it back to me this morning with a hired chauffeur. He wrote a note of abject apology, saying that he had been beside himself and had not realized what he was doing. "After setting the detective at work, I went out to our place by train. I dreaded confessing my failure to father, but he took it very well. We had dinner together in his study.
It occurred to Orme that the secret of the bill might be connected with the negotiation of a big business concession in Alcatrante's country. "S. R. Evans" might be trying to get control of rubber forests or mines in the Urinaba Mountains, perhaps, after all. In any event, he felt positive that the secret of the bill did not rightfully belong to Poritol.
He paused at the threshold, evidently to salute, for Poritol and Alcatrante bowed low. Then quick steps crossed the floor and into view came a nervous but assured-looking little figure a Japanese, but undoubtedly a man of great dignity. His manner of sharp authority would be hard to dispute, for it was supported by a personality that seemed to be stronger than Alcatrante's.
Arima looked at his master, who nodded indifferently and said: "Yes, see who it is. It can do no harm now." Orme heard the door open. What startled him first was the action of Poritol, who stepped back to the wall, his jaw dropping, his face a picture of embarrassment and fright. Alcatrante and the stranger showed amazement.
"As an attaché I am exempt," he said, with a pitiful attempt at dignity. "You are not exempt from the consequences of a crime like this. Now, get on your knees." Whimpering, Poritol kneeled. "Stay in that position." "Oh, sir oh, my very dear sir. "Stay there!" thundered Orme. Poritol was still, but his lips moved, and his interlaced fingers worked convulsively.
As best he could, he pieced together the curious adventures of the day. The mystery of the five-dollar bill and the extreme anxiety of Poritol seemed to be complicated by the appearance of the Japanese at the Père Marquette. Orme sought the simplest explanation.
Slowly he turned back. He thought of notifying the police, but, after all, he was none the worse off except for his promise to Poritol and Alcatrante, now involuntarily broken. He must explain to them as best he could. The marked bill had been of no consequence to him except as a focus of adventure. And he had had about as much adventure as he could expect for one evening.
As Orme walked away, he stopped now and then to look back. Poritol did not move, and Orme long carried the picture of that kneeling figure. "Who was it?" asked Bessie Wallingham, as he climbed back over the fence. "A puppy with sharp teeth," he replied, thinking of what the girl had said. "We might as well forget him."
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