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Only a few yards from me a great black dog was straining at his collar and barking furiously. I was somewhat relieved when the door was opened immediately at my knock. "Is Mr. Hoffmeyer staying here?" I asked. A little old man carrying a tallow candle stuck into a cheap candlestick nodded assent, and closed the door after me. I noticed, without any particular pleasure, that he also drew the bolts.
If Hoffmeyer discovered the serum, it was too late, or otherwise, long ere this, explorers from Europe would have come looking for us. We can only conclude that what happened in America happened in Europe, and that, at the best, some several score may have survived the Scarlet Death on that whole continent. "For one day longer the despatches continued to come from New York. Then they, too, ceased.
"What do you do that for?" I asked sharply. "I shall only be here a few minutes. It is not worth while locking up." The man looked at me but said nothing. He seemed to show neither any desire nor any ability for speech. Only as I repeated my question he nodded slowly as one who barely understands. "Mr. Hoffmeyer is in his room," he said. "He will be glad to see you."
There was the tense moment when a faithful cowboy broke upon the festivities with word that a New York detective was coming to search for the man who had robbed the Hoffmeyer establishment. His friends gathered loyally about Merton and swore he would never be taken from them alive. He was induced to don a false mustache until the detective had gone.
"For twenty-four hours, he said, no transatlantic airships had arrived, and no more messages were coming from England. He did state, though, that a message from Berlin that's in Germany announced that Hoffmeyer, a bacteriologist of the Metchnikoff School, had discovered the serum for the plague. That was the last word, to this day, that we of America ever received from Europe.
It seemed a bit incongruous that Hoffmeyer, the delicatessen merchant, should arrive on a bicycle, dressed in cowboy attire save for a badly dented derby hat, and carrying a bag of golf clubs; and it was a little puzzling how Hoffmeyer should have been ruined by his son's mad act, when it would have been shown that the money was returned to him.
Hoffmeyer, where it will be safe. You see, if you put it back where it was, his son might steal it again. We thought that out very carefully." "I see," said Merton. "I wish I had been told that. I feel that I could have done that bit a lot better. I felt kind of guilty." "You did it perfectly," Baird assured him. "Kid, you're a wonder," declared the Montague girl.
First it appeared that the Montague girl, as Miss Rebecca Hoffmeyer, had tired of being a mere New York society butterfly, had come out into the big open spaces to do something real, something worth while. The ruin of her father, still unexplained, had seemed to call out unsuspected reserves in the girl. She was stern and businesslike in such scenes as Merton was permitted to observe.
"You could send down a note and ask him," Louis answered. "He is staying at that address under the name of Hoffmeyer." "I will write him a letter," I decided, signing my bill. "You will let me know the result?" Louis asked, looking at me anxiously. "Certainly," I answered. I rose to my feet, but Louis did not immediately stand aside.
And in a place like this where there's nothing goin' on but silly billiards, or that bridge auction, a feller's gotta find some amusement, ain't he? Saginaw they comes to the house 'most every night Hoffmeyer and Raditz and " "Yes, I know," breaks in Zosco. "So that was the plot, was it, Ellery?" Ellery registers scorn. "Huh!" says he. "Don't let him put over any such fish tale on you.
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