I know that as soon as I have left the room you will not raise an alarm ?"
"I should have given my word, sir," said the editor stiffly.
"And I mine," was the quiet response; "And my word has never been broken."
In the editor's mind a struggle was going on; here in his hand was the greatest story of the century; another minute and he would have extracted from Thery the secret of the Four.
Even now a bold dash might save everything--and the printers were waiting . . . but the hand that held the revolver was the hand of a resolute man, and the chief yielded.
"I agree, but under protest," he said. "I warn you that your arrest and punishment is inevitable."
"I regret," said the masked man with a slight bow, "that I cannot agree with you--nothing is inevitable save death. Come, Thery," he said, speaking in Spanish. "On my word as a Caballero I will not harm you."
Thery hesitated, then slunk forward with his head bowed and his eyes fixed on the floor.
The masked man opened the door an inch, listened, and in the moment came the inspiration of the editor's life.
"Look here," he said quickly, the man giving place to the journalist, "when you get home will you write us an article about yourselves? You needn't give us any embarrassing particulars, you know--something about your aspirations, your raison d'etre"
"Sir," said the masked man--and there was a note of admiration in his voice--"I recognise in you an artist. The article will be delivered tomorrow"; and opening the door the two men stepped into the darkened corridor.
CHAPTER VI. THE CLUES
Blood-red placards, hoarse newsboys, overwhelming headlines, and column after column of leaded type told the world next day how near the Four had been to capture. Men in the train leant forward, their newspapers on their knees, and explained what they would have done had they been in the editor of the Megaphone's position. People stopped talking about wars and famines and droughts and street accidents and parliaments and ordinary everyday murders and the German Emperor, in order to concentrate their minds upon the topic of the hour. Would the Four Just Men carry out their promise and slay the Secretary for Foreign Affairs on the morrow ?
Nothing else was spoken about. Here was a murder threatened a month ago, and, unless something unforeseen happened, to be committed tomorrow.
No wonder that the London Press devoted the greater part of its space to discussing the coming of Thery and his recapture.
'. . . It is not so easy to understand,' said the Telegram, 'why, having the miscreants in their hands, certain journalists connected with a sensational and halfpenny contemporary allowed them to go free to work their evil designs upon a great statesman whose unparalleled . . . We say if, for unfortunately in these days of cheap journalism every story emanating from the sanctum sanctorum of sensation-loving sheets is not to be accepted on its pretensions; so if, as it stated, these desperadoes really did visit the office of a contemporary last night. . .' At noonday Scotland Yard circulated broadcast a hastily printed sheet:
£1000 REWARD
Wanted, on suspicion of being connected with a criminal organisation known as the Four Just Men, miguel thery, alias saimont, alias le chico, late of Jerez, Spain, a Spaniard speaking no English. Height 5 feet 8 inches. Eyes brown, hair black, slight black moustache, face broad. Scars: white scar on cheek, old knife wound on body. Figure, thick-set.
The above reward will be paid to any person or persons who shall give such information as shall lead to the identification of the said Thery with the band known as the Four Just Men and his apprehension.
From which may be gathered that, acting on the information furnished by the editor and his assistant at two o'clock in the morning, the Direct Spanish Cable had been kept busy; important personages had been roused from their beds in Madrid, and the history of Thery as recorded in the Bureau had been
"I should have given my word, sir," said the editor stiffly.
"And I mine," was the quiet response; "And my word has never been broken."
In the editor's mind a struggle was going on; here in his hand was the greatest story of the century; another minute and he would have extracted from Thery the secret of the Four.
Even now a bold dash might save everything--and the printers were waiting . . . but the hand that held the revolver was the hand of a resolute man, and the chief yielded.
"I agree, but under protest," he said. "I warn you that your arrest and punishment is inevitable."
"I regret," said the masked man with a slight bow, "that I cannot agree with you--nothing is inevitable save death. Come, Thery," he said, speaking in Spanish. "On my word as a Caballero I will not harm you."
Thery hesitated, then slunk forward with his head bowed and his eyes fixed on the floor.
The masked man opened the door an inch, listened, and in the moment came the inspiration of the editor's life.
"Look here," he said quickly, the man giving place to the journalist, "when you get home will you write us an article about yourselves? You needn't give us any embarrassing particulars, you know--something about your aspirations, your raison d'etre"
"Sir," said the masked man--and there was a note of admiration in his voice--"I recognise in you an artist. The article will be delivered tomorrow"; and opening the door the two men stepped into the darkened corridor.
CHAPTER VI. THE CLUES
Blood-red placards, hoarse newsboys, overwhelming headlines, and column after column of leaded type told the world next day how near the Four had been to capture. Men in the train leant forward, their newspapers on their knees, and explained what they would have done had they been in the editor of the Megaphone's position. People stopped talking about wars and famines and droughts and street accidents and parliaments and ordinary everyday murders and the German Emperor, in order to concentrate their minds upon the topic of the hour. Would the Four Just Men carry out their promise and slay the Secretary for Foreign Affairs on the morrow ?
Nothing else was spoken about. Here was a murder threatened a month ago, and, unless something unforeseen happened, to be committed tomorrow.
No wonder that the London Press devoted the greater part of its space to discussing the coming of Thery and his recapture.
'. . . It is not so easy to understand,' said the Telegram, 'why, having the miscreants in their hands, certain journalists connected with a sensational and halfpenny contemporary allowed them to go free to work their evil designs upon a great statesman whose unparalleled . . . We say if, for unfortunately in these days of cheap journalism every story emanating from the sanctum sanctorum of sensation-loving sheets is not to be accepted on its pretensions; so if, as it stated, these desperadoes really did visit the office of a contemporary last night. . .' At noonday Scotland Yard circulated broadcast a hastily printed sheet:
£1000 REWARD
Wanted, on suspicion of being connected with a criminal organisation known as the Four Just Men, miguel thery, alias saimont, alias le chico, late of Jerez, Spain, a Spaniard speaking no English. Height 5 feet 8 inches. Eyes brown, hair black, slight black moustache, face broad. Scars: white scar on cheek, old knife wound on body. Figure, thick-set.
The above reward will be paid to any person or persons who shall give such information as shall lead to the identification of the said Thery with the band known as the Four Just Men and his apprehension.
From which may be gathered that, acting on the information furnished by the editor and his assistant at two o'clock in the morning, the Direct Spanish Cable had been kept busy; important personages had been roused from their beds in Madrid, and the history of Thery as recorded in the Bureau had been
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