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Trubus is greatly interested in philanthropic work, and of course what I could do would be very small in comparison to his influence. But if there is a single thing...." "There's not, I'm afraid. Oh, I'm so miserable and my poor dear old daddy!" Even as she spoke the manager came bustling into the store.
I saw a picture in the paper to-night of a big philanthropist named Trubus, or something like that, who is fighting Raines Law Hotels, improper novels, bad moving pictures and improving morals in general. How do you think it would do to give him a tip about these fellows? He asks for more money from the public to carry on their work. They had a big banquet in his honor last night."
Burke pointed out the small transmitting disc to the surprised captain. "Well, this man learned a lot from the detectives and applied it to his trade very scientifically, didn't he?" "Yes, the records we have on the phonograph show that every word which passed in this room was received upstairs by Trubus. No one but Clemm knew of his connection or ownership of the establishment.
"Make all checks payable to William Trubus, President, and on out-of-town checks kindly add clearing-house fee. "'Charity shall cover the multitude of sins." I Peter, iv. 8. "Yours for the glory of the Cause, "WILLIAM TRUBUS, "President, The Purity League of N. Y." As Officer Burke finished the letter he looked quizzically at Dr. MacFarland. "How large was your check, doctor?"
Bobbie was thus enabled to get a clear view of the philanthropist's profile, and to study the great man from a good point of vantage. Trubus was rotund. His cheeks were rosy evidences of good health, good meals and freedom from anxiety as to where those good meals were to come from. His forehead was round, and being partially bald, gave an appearance of exaggerated intellectuality.
Even the furniture of this office I have brought down from my home in order that those who may come to discuss our movement may be surrounded by an environment of beauty and calm. But, money, much money. Alas!" Just at this juncture the door opened and the telephone girl brought in a basket full of letters, evidently just received from the mail man. "Here's the latest mail, Mr. Trubus.
His ex-employer is marrying into a very good family, to put it mildly, and Trubus will have a very rich son-in-law! I wonder if she'll be as happy as I intend to make Mary when she says the word?" He cut one of the articles out of the paper, putting it into his pocket to show Mary that evening.
A benevolent-looking pair of gold-rimmed glasses sat astride that nose, but Burke noticed that, oddly enough, Trubus did not need them for his reading, nor later when he turned to look at the young officer. The plump face was adorned with the conventional "mutton-chop" whiskers which are so generally associated in one's mental picture of bankers, bishops and reformers.
Trubus, under the watchful eyes of two policemen and with his lawyer, lost no time in returning to his mansion. As he rang the bell the butler hurried to the door in a frightened manner. "It can't be true, sir, wot the pypers say, can it?" he gasped. But Trubus forced his way past, followed by the attorney and his two guards.
"That is an arrangement by which this fellow Clemm has been making duplicates of all his transactions in his own writing," explained Burke. "You see this Trubus has trusted no one. He has a definite record of every deal spread out before him by the other pencil on the machine upstairs, just as this go-between writes it out. Then here is the dictagraph, under the desk."
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