Elk 01 The Fellowship of the Frog

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Authors: Edgar Wallace
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town—at least, they looked swell.”
    The girl felt herself go cold, and the vague unrest in her mind became instantly a panic.
    “There isn’t…anything wrong at the office?” she asked anxiously.
    “No. I took the liberty of going through his books. They’re square. His cash account is right to a centimo. Crudely stated, he isn’t stealing—at least, not from us. There’s another thing. He calls himself Raymond Lester at Knightsbridge. I found this out by accident, and asked him why he had taken another name. His explanation was fairly plausible. He didn’t want Mr. Bennett to hear that he was cutting a shine. He has some profitable outside work, but he won’t tell me what it is.”
    Ella was glad to get away, glad to reach the seclusion which the wide spaces of the park afforded. She must think and decide upon the course she would take. Ray was not the kind of boy to accept the draconic attitude, either in her or in John Bennett. His father must not know—she must appeal to Ray. Perhaps it was true that he had found a remunerative sideline. Lots of young men ran spare time work with profit to themselves—only Ray was not a worker.
    She sat down on a park chair to wrestle with the problem, and so intent was she upon its solution that she did not realize that somebody had stopped before her.
    “This is a miracle!” said a laughing voice, and she looked up into the blue eyes of Dick Gordon. “And now you can tell me what is the difficulty?” he asked as he pulled another chair toward her and sat down.
    “Difficulty…who…who said I was in difficulties?” she countered.
    “Your face is the traitor,” he smiled. “Forgive this attire. I have been to make an official call at the United States Embassy.”
    She noticed for the first time that he wore the punctilious costume of officialdom, the well-fitting tail-coat, the polished top-hat and regulation cravat. She observed first of all that he looked very well in them, and that he seemed even younger.
    “I have an idea it is your brother,” he said. “I saw him a few minutes ago—there he is now.”
    She followed the direction of his eyes, and half rose from her chair in her astonishment. Riding on the tan track which ran parallel to the park road, were a man and a girl. The man was Ray. He was smartly dressed, and from the toes of his polished riding-boots to the crown of his grey hat, was all that was creditable to expensive tailoring. The girl at his side was young, pretty, petite.
    The riders passed without Ray noticing the interested spectators. He was in his gayest mood, and the sound of his laughter came back to the dumbfounded girl.
    “But…I don’t understand—do you know the lady, Mr. Gordon?”
    “Very well by repute,” said Dick drily. “Her name is Lola Bassano.”
    “Is she—a lady?”
    Dick’s eyes twinkled.
    “Elk says she’s not, but Elk is prejudiced. She has money and education and breed. Whether or not these three assets are sufficient to constitute a lady, I don’t know. Elk says not, but, as I say, Elk is considerably prejudiced.”
    She sat silent, her mind in a whirl.
    “I have an idea that you want help…about your brother,” said Dick quietly. “He is frightening you, isn’t he?”
    She nodded.
    “I thought so. He is puzzling me . I know all about him, his salary and prospects and his queer masquerade under an alias. I’m not troubling about that, because boys love those kinds of mysteries. Unfortunately, they are expensive mysteries, and I want to know how he can afford to keep up this suddenly acquired position.”
    He mentioned a sum and she gasped.
    “It costs all that,” said Dick. “Elk, who has a passion for exact detail, and who knows to a penny what the riding suit costs, supplied me with particulars.”
    She interrupted him with such a gesture of despair that he felt a brute.
    “What can I do…what can I do?” she asked. “Everybody body wants to help—you Mr. Johnson, and, I’m sure, Mr.

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