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Updated: June 9, 2025
"I had Thompson, your cab driver, here," said Ranleigh, "and he tells a somewhat unusual but apparently straight tale; moreover, he is a very respectable negro, well known to the guards and the officers on duty around Dupont Circle, and they regard him as entirely trustworthy.
She was about thirty years of age, slender, with dark hair and a face just missing beauty. She was gowned in black, with a bunch of violets at her waist, and she wore a large mesh veil, through which her particularly fine dark eyes sparkled discriminatingly. The Superintendent arose and bowed graciously. Ranleigh was a gentleman by birth and by breeding. "What can I do for you, Mrs.
"When did it happen?" Ranleigh asked. "About five o'clock this afternoon, sir," Whiteside replied, in a most apologetic tone. He knew there was no sympathy and no excuse for the detective who let his prisoner escape. "The bell rang. I went to the door and was shot senseless by a chemical revolver. When I came to, I had exchanged places with the prisoner, and he and another man were just departing.
Then the crowd suddenly opened as crowds do and he saw, on the same side of the corridor and scarcely ten feet apart, two slender women in black and wearing red roses; one was Mrs. Winton, the other he had never seen. It brought him to a sharp pause. Then he smiled. Ranleigh was right! There were altogether too many women in this case. And which one was waiting for him?
"Telephone, sir," said he, giving Harleston the call slip. "Will you excuse me a moment, Mrs. Clephane?" Harleston asked, and hurried out conscious all the while that Madeline Spencer and her companion were watching him. "This is Police Headquarters, Mr. Harleston," came the voice over the wire. "Major Ranleigh wants to know if you will meet him at his office at ten o'clock tonight.
Usselex bent over and touched her forehead with his lips. "That is good of you," he said. "She will take it very kindly." And with that he moved to the door. "But what is the address?" Eden called after him. "The Ranleigh," he answered; and from the hall he added, in a louder tone, "I will be back in less than an hour." "The Ranleigh," she repeated to herself. "The Ranleigh!"
Harleston returned at a quarter to three, and Ranleigh showed him into the small room at the rear, provided with every facility for seeing what went on and overhearing and reducing what was said in the Superintendent's private office. Promptly at three, Mrs. Winton was announced by appointment, and was instantly admitted.
Time was exceedingly material; and if the Spencer gang caused him to disappear for a few days, they would have a free hand until Ranleigh or Carpenter awoke to the situation. It was not exactly just to the cause for him to take unnecessary chances. A drug store was but a short distance up the street, on the other side; he would telephone from it for a taxi.
Keep your eye on the dark-haired loveliness; with her in the landscape the goods are still here. Now for Carpenter." "Permit me to suggest a taxi!" Ranleigh observed. "It's just as well that you shouldn't wander about alone on the well-lighted streets of the National Capital "
Spencer's shadow while she was taxiing up the avenue?" "I fancy he was on his job, though you may not have seen him," Ranleigh replied. "His report in the morning will tell." "I would sooner have a report as to Mrs. Clephane's whereabouts," Harleston remarked. "I can't see what good she would be to them now?" said Ranleigh. "She hasn't a thing they want."
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