THE FATAL HOUR.

Auckland Star, Volume XLII, Issue 134, 7 June 1911, Page 10

THE FATAL HOUR.

By NICHOLAS CARTEK, |

Author of "A Double Mystery," "The Crime of a Countess," "Kendnck s Pledge," "Man Against Man," "At Face Value," etc. CHAPTER Xlll.—(Continued.) Patsy stepped into, the rear office and cvi again in less than a minute, divested of his coat and hat, and clad in a waiter's apron. . . He returned just in the nick ot tune. A call had come from Room 13, and Palsy, with a pencil and pad in his nana aud a tray under his arm, went up to take the order. His knovk on the door brought a single sonorous growl from .Within: •'Gome!" Patsy took up aptly the part he had assumbed; he opened the door and entered. . Four persons were seated at a table in the middle of the room. Two were the couple Patsy had shadowed to the house. A third was Frisco Fan—though one •would hardly have known her. She no longer was elegantly dressed. Her line figure was clad' in a navy-blue woolen gown, somewhat the worse for wear and not a perfect fit. The diamonds had vanished from her shapely hands. Her bleached hair had been dyed nearly black, also her trows, while lier fair complexion was now as dark as that of an Italian, or a Spanish senorita. Near her sat the man who had responded to Patsy's knock. He was a large, broad-shouldered, heavily-bearded man, apparently in the fifties. He. too, was as swarthy as a Spaniard: a burly, sinister«yed fellow, at one.p suggesting the bully and ruffian. He was decently clad, however, and looked up sharply when the ETipposed waiter entered. Patsy sized up the group, also the surroundings, while taking the order given him by" the burly fellow. There were two vacant chairs in the room. Frisco Fan's street garments were tossed upon one of them. Above the table burned a cheap gas chandelier. Against one of the side walls stood a small table, on -which, were several empty glasses. Near it. and only a few feet from the door leading into the corridor, was another door. Whore it led, however, Patsy could not then determine. As ho was about to go, Frisco Fan said abruptly: " Order mc some cigarettes, too, Snavrley. I'm dying for a smoke. It'll help steady my nerves." " Nerves — bah!" growled the man. " You haven't any. ,.

Nevertheless, Mr. Snawley, so-called, added them to the order given Patsy, and the latter quickly departed to fill it- " Pnawley, eh?" he said to himself on his way to the bar-room. " Who the dickens is Snawley, and how does he fit in? If he's as bad as he looks, he's crooked enough. That black-haired woman can't be Fanny Gould, unless she's made a big change since Nick saw her. VThoeveT they are, by thunder, I've got to get next to what come 3 off in there." It would have puzzled a Philadelphia lawyer, and it puzzled Patsy, to see how it could be done successfully. He measured all the possibilities from every standpoint while waiting in the bar-room for the order to be fiHed. He knew, of couTse, that he could listen near the door of the room at intervals without inviting much suspicion, now naturally being- taken fir a waiter; but that of course did B'> I appeal to liiin. " I might lose much that is said, perhaps the most important,' he reasoned. "There's a chance, moreover, that somebody else may join the gang, and that I might be caught in the very act of play•dng the spy- That wouldn't do at all." - Patsy was probing his brain for a feasible plan when, with his .well-filled tray, he returned to Room 13. The conversation then in progress instantly ceaeed, and every eye was turned npon him. Patsy appeared oblivious of this momentary scrutiny- He served the drinks frith all the deliberation and attentions Of an old hand at the business. He passed from one to another, serving each, lighting a match for Frisco Fan, who had quickly seized tlie cigarettes, and all the while listening -with oucward indifference to the ordinary remarks indulged in after his entrance. '; Suddenly his eyes lighted a little, and a; thought flashed through his brain. "Gee! I'll take a chance." " Good -enough, kid!" said Frisco Fan —Patsy had just given her the lighted match. " Much obliged." Patsy bowed and turned to Snawley, (taking the money he tendered. "■Anything more, sir?" *' No." The reply came with a growl. *If we want anything more we'll ring." "Yes, sir. Thank, you, sir." :Pat3y to wed again, with his empty tray in his hand, and backed away J rom the table and toward the door. Three of the crooks at the table reached for their well-filled glasses. Frisco Kan, the only one directly facing the tletective, turned her head for a moment Jtnd tossed her burnt match in a corner behind ber. With an ey e on each., Patsy seized the momentary opportunity presented. Without turning, lest he should lose sight of either of them, he opened- the door and quickly vanished.

'Not, however, the door by which he had entered but that near it in the side' iwall. In the twinkling of an eye he stepped, not into the corridor, not into an adjoining room—but into a wardrobe closet as dark as a pocket the instant he closed the door.. CHAPTER XIV. BIRDS OF PREY. ■Patsy Garvan knew it—that he had taken a desperate chance Hg: likened with strained ears for a threatening sound from without, for a word signifying that his lightninglike move had been seen, or was even suspected. Hid suspense was only brief, however. The silence m the room was soon broken fey the sound of a glass replaced on the table, quickly followed by the smacking of lips—Snan-Jey's lips—and a question repeated with a growl of impatience. "What time is it? What time is it now ?" "By Jove, I've fooled them, all right," thought Patsy, with some elation. "They did7i't see mc, but suppose I went through the door. Xow, you rascals, trot along as fast as you like. The faster you trot the quicker I'D get your measure." Cautiously crouching to place his tray on the closet floor, while the above passed through his mind, Patsy discovered a single gleam of light directly in front of him. He saw at once that it came through a keyhole, and he knelt noiselessly .and peered through it. The man he had shadowed to the house was setting down his glass and fishing out. his watch. "It's nearly nine," he said, in reDly to Snawley's question.

"Then it's time the infernal meddler should 'be here," Snawlty declared. "I told him balf-past eight," said Frisco Fan, who was smoking complacently. The slender, black-eyed girl was sipping Benedictine. "You ought to have made sure of him, Fan, and got more out of him," Snawley replied. "He may not show up at all, but try to do us by " "Oh, don't you worry," Frisco Fan interrupted, "I got enough out of him to convince mc whom and what. I.was up against, and to show mc the-"way. It was a case of bolt and leave no tracks, Snawley, and do the talking afterward. This is good enough time and place for that. He'll show up bc'ore long. I'll gamble my share in the smelting pot that he'll show up." "Barring he's been nailed since he left you." "No danger of that. He's a foxy rat, I'll swear to that, for all I don't know him from a side of leather." "Are you sure 'twas Nick Carter he cornered?" "Sure enough." "Did you see him?" "No. I was taking no chances of his seeing mc. The covey in plaid knew liim, all right; and he'll make it plain a bit later. I was in too great a rush to vamose the ranch to wait for minor particulars. It was lucky I flew, too, for Carter made a gateway inside of half an hour. Delia will swear to that. She happened along just in time to see the freckled Phinney girl rush out for a cop." "That's right, too," put in the blaokeyed girl. "I was going after a trinket 1 left in Fan's tray while I was faking the nurse act. It was a cinch, Snawley, that something was wrong, so 1 hung round until I had sized up the whole business." "Are you sure you weren't seen?" Snawley demanded. "Seen? Who was to see mc?" "Who, you little fool? Nick Carter probably put a spy on the house withh an hour after his escape." "H'm! He'd get fat on that," sneered the girl. "No spy of his has sharper eyes than mine." "Delia's right," Frisco Fan declared. "We were wise to that, and talked it over after 1 joined her. I knew his nibs here"—this with a glance at the younger man—"was to call on mc to-night. So 1 sent to Delia to waylay him on the sly." "She did it, all right, and I tumbled." said the man approvingly. "The instant I saw her 1 knew something was wrong. Why didn't j-ou 'phone mc, Fan?" ""'Phone you, be hanged! I couldn't get you by 'phone, nor in any other way. I had no course but to send Delia, and, set her to watching for you from round a corner." "So that was the way of it." thought Patsy, during a brief lull in the conversation, all of which he had easily overheard. "The minx was spying from around a corner, eh? Then it's lucky 1 was lying low, or she might have got her lamps on mc. The other one is Fan Gould, all right; but, gee! what a shift from Nick's description. "I'm right in the nest of vultures, for fair; but I'm blessed if I'm quite wise to their game of talk. They must be waiting for the rascal who held up the chief; but how happens it Fan Gould doesn't know him? Gee! As I told Ohick, I smelt something wrong when the chief told about Marvin holding her up with a gun. She must have got rid of him after they flew the coop, and agreed to meet him here. 11l get next to the -whole business, all right, if he shows up." Patsy's soliloquy, as well as the cursory remarks to which he was listening, was at that moment ended by a knock on the door leading to the hall. Frisco Fan sprang up and opened it. As she evidently expected, she admitted —the man in a baggy plaid suit.

"Hello, again!" slie exclaimed, greeting him coarsely. "Come in and meet some of my friends. Oh, I'm all right, and so are they. I told you I'd he a bit changed when we meet again. Chameleons turn colour, you know, when threatened. Mr. Snawley, senior and junior. You may call the girl Delia. Na-mes don't cut much ice, you know, as you said when you told mc yours was Jake Marvin. Mr. Marvin viewed the woman doubtfully at first, then bestowed on each of the others a quick, keen glance, as he paired a tew feet away while Fan was glibly speaking. "Couldn't you rake up any more?" he growled, without so much as a nod in acknowledgment of the introductions. "Why didn't you say you'd have your gang here?" "Oh, pull up a chair, Marvin, and don't be fussy," said Fan. "They won't hurt you." "Nothing will hurt me —nothing round Ihere," Marvin pointedly snarled, evidently a 'bit put out. "Won't, eh?" thought Patsy. "You wait and see." "If you'd brought 'em all," Marvin added, with an aggressive nod, "you'd have nothing on mc." "All!" supplemented Patsy, with ears alert and one eye fixed on the keyhole. "There are more of them, then; and ■this dog evidently is a stranger in the kennel. By Jove, I hope nothing will drop before they have said their little verse." Such a calamity appeared improbable, for Frisco Fan did not resent Marvin's sinister assertion, but replied indifferently, while she drew up a chair for him:

"There's nothing in that, old man. You'll find, as I told you, that I'll pay well for what you have done for mc. I couldn't fork over this afternoon, for I didn't have the dough. Snawley has it, and will make good for mc. Eh, Snawley?" "I'll 'hear what the man has to say," Pnawley replied, with a flinty hardness stealing into his deep voice. Marvin merely glanced at him as he sat down. There was a covert leer of contempt in his evil eyes. His looks and bearing were those of vicious assurance and erim determination. He gazed across the table at Frisco Fan as she resumed her seat, and replied darkly: "Pay well, d'ye say? Sure you will! I know that when I din it." "When you cornered Carter?" "Yes." "How did yon happen to be in my flat, anyway?" questioned Fan suspiciously. "Tt's dead lucky for yon I was there." Marvin pointedly retorted. "Tf T hadn't been you'd now be behind bolts ami bars." "Nonsense!" Fan frowned quickly. "Get thnt idpn out of your head. Don't imnprinp. because I was so anxious to Vinlt. Mr. Marvin, that the detective know anything about mc. \or do yon. ns far n<; th.it iroes. for all I'm willins to do what's ricrht for the service you've done nif. But you've got nothing on any of "=. Marvin." "TTaven't I?" "Certainly not. If so inclined, I could sive yon thp Jangli, ordpr you to get out ami so about your business." "You could, ph 1" "Why not? I don't know you from a side of leather, nor you mc, Mr. Marvin."

"Don't I?" Marvin lurched forward wrth a threatening sneer. "That's where you make a mistake. I know you from 'way back. 1 know your record—every item of it. You're from California. You're Frisco Fan, the ' "Stop a bit! You hold your horses, Marvin." The woman silenced him with sudden suppressed ferocity. Her stained skin took on a'dirty pallor, her eyes a fiery glow. The declaration of Marvin had fallen with corresponding- effect upon the ears of her several confederates, and Snawley's hand -was stealing toward Ms hip pocket. Before he could draw a weapon, or otherwise interrupt the scene so suddenly turned strained and threatening, Frisco Fan checked him with a gesture, and added, much more calmly:

"You seem to think yourself a very knowing fellow Marvin. How did you get wise to so much? You've made a mistake, my man. You've got mc mixed up with some other woman." "Not Tnuch," Marvin curtly answered, ■unniiued. "There's no mix-up in mine. I know you and all about you, Frisco Fan, and just when you came East. More'n that, I know all about the game you and your pals are playing." "You do, eh?" Fam. incredulously sneered.

"You'll find I do," Marvin nodded, placing both of his muscular arms on the table and staring across it at her. "You'll find I do, and that's why I know you'll pay mc well for what T've done. I could have sold out to Carter, mind yon; only—well, that vein wouldn't have panned out as rich." "Wouldn't eh?" The woman scowled back at him. with the look of one somewhat intimidated, and at a loss what to far. "You'll make good, Fan," Marvin forcibly added, in the snjno sinister way. "You'll settle nt my price. You listen to mc for a spell, and vonr pals here, and 111 tell you why you'll settle at any figure " "You keep quiet for half a minute, Marvin, if that's your name." The interruption nnw came from the elder Pnawlev, with a look that no sane mfin would have ventured to disregard. Tt had settled on his swarthy, bearded face while he sat listening, waiting to sret a hint, at least, of the peril by which he was menaced, and at the designs of this grimly determined intruder. He nrose while speaking, drawing up his massive fisrnre, and adding simply, yet wiUi murder in his eye: "You keep quiet, Marvin." Then he strode to the door, opened it noiselessly, and peered into the corridor. "He's making sure no one is listening." thought Patsy, watching him through the keyhole. "Holy smoke! What if he opens the door? There'll be something doing then, for fair!" It appeared inevitable, utterly unavoidable, when the ruffian turned. Patsy set hie teeth grimlj- and drew both of his revolvers, placing them quietly on the floor, within instant reach. In another moment Snawley's heavy tread came nearer—and Patsy heard him grasp the knob of the closet door. (To be continued next Saturday.)