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Updated: July 26, 2025
The next night our house was entered by a burglar. Besides the papers, only a few things were taken." "Poritol?" exclaimed Orme, incredulously. "It happened that a Chicago detective had been in our village on business during the day," she went on. "He had recognized on the streets a well-known thief, named Walsh.
In the midst of his puzzling, the telephone-bell rang. He crossed the room and put the receiver to his ear. "Yes?" he questioned. The clerk's voice answered. "Senhor Poritol to see Mr. Orme." "Who?" "S-e-n-h-o-r P-o-r-i-t-o-l," spelled the clerk. "I don't know him," said Orme. "There must be some mistake. Are you sure that he asked for me?" There was a pause.
"Well " he hesitated, his eyes roving about the room as if in search of something "Well, I will explain to you why I want the bill." Orme lighted a fresh cigar, and settled himself to hear the story. Senhor Poritol drew a second handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his damp brow.
Orme could hear persons mounting the stairs, and presently the voice of Arima said, "Come in," and the visitors entered the room. Pausing near the door for a moment, they exchanged a few whispered sentences. Then one of them walked over toward the window. Orme repressed an exclamation, for the figure that came into view was the figure of Poritol dapper, assertive.
I don't know what all this mystery conceals, but I can't give you that bill unless I know more about it and I won't," he added, as he saw Senhor Poritol open his mouth for further pleading. "Very well," sighed the little man. He hesitated for an instant, then added: "I do not blame you for insisting, and I suppose I must say to you everything that you demand. No, I do not smoke the cigar, please.
The South American gnawed at his lip; the Japanese looked at the floor, and Orme now realized that the manner which had seemed so indicative of a masterful personality was the manner which springs from power the manner that is built upon the assurance of a tremendous backing. The tension was broken by Poritol.
She answered with an even, cutting edge in her voice: "You cannot explain, Mr. Poritol." "But " he began, blind to her meaning. "I do not care to hear you," she said; and Poritol slunk back to his former position. From his face it was clear that he had no desire except to get away. Meantime Alcatrante aroused himself.
At every offer he looked past my shoulder and then repeated his denials. The last time he raised his eyes I had an intuition that something was going on behind me. I turned quickly. There stood Mr. Poritol, extending his fingers in the air and forming his mouth silently into words. He was raising my bids! "It flashed upon me that the papers would be of immense value to Mr.
Little Poritol echoed the salute and, turning, shot off down a side street, with ridiculously rapid movements of his short legs. Orme inferred that he was bound for the North Clark Street car line. Alcatrante continued along the drive. When the South Americans separated, the shadow quickly came to life.
He saw Poritol, with outstretched, questioning hands, his eyes fixed on the face of Alcatrante, who seemed to be delivering orders. The flashing reflections of light from the minister's spectacles indicated his authoritative nods of the head. After a time Alcatrante evidently completed his instructions. He removed his hat and bowed formally.
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