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Updated: July 26, 2025
"On the back of it!" gasped the little man. "Was a curious cryptogram." "Do not torture me!" exclaimed Senhor Poritol. "Have you got it?" His fingers worked nervously. "Yes," said Orme slowly, "I still have it." Senhor Poritol hastily took a fresh five-dollar bill from his pocket. "See," he said, jumping to the floor, "here is another just as good a bill.
No, Alcatrante was no friend of Poritol's; nor was it likely that, as protector of the interests of his countrymen, he would go so far as to accompany them on their errands unless much was at stake. Perhaps Poritol was Alcatrante's tool and had bungled some important commission.
Presently they came to the entrance of what appeared to be an extensive estate. Back among the trees glimmered the lights of a house. "Turn in," said Bessie. A thought struck Orme. If Poritol, why not the Japanese? Maku and his friends might easily have got back to this place. And if the minister had been able to telephone to his allies from Arradale, they would be expecting him.
"Let me help," said Orme, eager to follow those papers all over Chicago, if only it would serve her. "Hear my story first." Rapidly he recounted the adventures of the evening. She listened, eyes intent, nodding in recognition of his description of Poritol and Alcatrante.
"It is only fair. Yes, I will keep the bill until to-morrow morning." "One other suggestion," continued Alcatrante. "You may not be willing to give up the bill, but is there any reason why you should refuse to let Senhor Poritol copy the writing that is on it?" "Only my determination to think the whole matter over before I do anything at all," Orme replied.
"I I " Something like a sob escaped him, and Orme again found himself divided between contempt and pity. "What were you doing with that wheelbarrow?" Poritol kept his frightened eyes on Orme's face, but he said nothing. "Well, I will explain it. You followed the car when it started for Arradale. You waited here, found a wheelbarrow, and tried to wreck us.
Alcatrante where he was stopping, and have waited there. But Mr. Alcatrante was playing golf at Wheaton, and Mr. Poritol seems to have thought that he must go straight to him. He cannot escape from being spectacular, you see. "He ran out through the western suburbs, putting on more and more speed. Meantime I set a detective on the track of the car. That is how I learned what I am now telling you.
The little man's dismay suddenly gave way to an eager and voluble excitement, and he rushed across the room, exclaiming: "Oh, my dear miss " "No names," commanded Alcatrante harshly, turning on his subordinate. "My dear young lady," continued Poritol breathlessly, "I am the victim of your misunderstanding. You will permit me to explain."
It is further evidence of your comic equipment that you should use a wheelbarrow." Poritol got to his feet. "You are mistaken, dear Mr. Orme. Orme smiled grimly. "Stop," he said. "Don't explain. Now I want you to stay right here in this field for a half hour. Don't budge. If I catch you outside, I'll take you to the nearest jail." Poritol drew himself up.
And yet Orme was dubious. There was mischief in the bill; so much he felt sure of. Alcatrante's reputation was that of a fox, and as for Poritol, he was, to say the least, a person of uncertain qualities. Orme could not but admire the subtle manner in which Alcatrante sought delicately to limit his doubts to the mere possibility that Poritol was trying to pass spurious money.
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