Read Online MRS1 The Under Dogs by Hulbert Footner - Free Book Online
Authors: Hulbert Footner
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than average, strong, graceful figure, and strikingly good-looking, in a bold dark style. Black hair, bobbed at her neck; large dark brown eyes. Was wearing a well-tailored blue suit, and small, black straw hat of the style known as cloche ."
"As to the two men who attacked her," Mme. Storey went on, "I can only say that they were slender and active. They wore dark suits and tweed caps. There were several witnesses to the affair, and better descriptions of the men will, no doubt, reach you through the regular channels."
While Mme. Storey was talking, the buzzer sounded that announced the entrance of somebody into my room. She broke off, saying: "Send that out, and I'll call you up again in five minutes."
With quick nods she directed that Crider was to go in the back room, while I received our caller.
"Compose your face, Bella," she said sternly.
I put on my dark-rimmed glasses. They help me to look blank when I have need to do so. My heart was beating like a trip-hammer. In my room I found a slender, dark young man, who was apparently in the greatest excitement, but it was all put on, for his dark eyes were cool and hard. They bored me through like gimlets. Well, he got no change out of me.
"Is Mme. Storey in?" he cried, with seeming breathlessness.
"What do you want of her?" I asked.
"There's been a girl knocked on the head down the street and abducted in a car!" he cried.
I made haste to open the door, and he ran into my mistress's room. She was writing at her desk with admirable composure. She looked up in cool surprise. The young man repeated his announcement with added details.
"Good heavens! how terrible!" cried my mistress, springing up.
She turned to look out of the window, as was most natural, and I followed her. Quite a crowd had gathered on the spot where the outrage had taken place.
"Oh, they're gone," said the young man. "Made a clean getaway."
"Have the police been notified?" asked Mme. Storey.
"Sure, the cops arrived on the scene after everything was over."
"Why did you come to tell me?" asked Mme. Storey.
"Well, I heard somebody in the crowd say she was a friend of yours," he answered glibly.
I shall never forget the face of the speaker; sleek, sharp and insolent, with eyes as flat and expressionless as an animal's. He wasn't but eighteen or nineteen years old, but he looked steeped in evil.
"Good heavens!" cried Mme. Storey, opening her eyes very wide. "What sort of girl? Describe her?"
"I didn't see it myself," said the young man, "but I heard them talking." His description of the girl closely followed my own.
"That suggests nothing to me," said Mme. Storey, shaking her head. "I wasn't expecting anybody at this hour.... You should notify police headquarters. Use my phone."
But the man, acting as if distracted, turned and ran out of the room. Mme. Storey and I exchanged a look. Crider came in from the back room.
"That was one of the two who seized Melanie," said my mistress bitterly. "He had changed his hat, that was all. It was hard to let him go. After they had gone a block or so, he dropped off the car and came back to see what was doing. It's an old trick."
"I can pick him up," said Crider eagerly. "Let me trail him."
Mme. Storey shook her head. "He would lead you nowhere. And the risk is too great—to her, I mean. There is one chance in ten that she is still alive. She is very useful to them. But if they suspected that I had any knowledge of their activities, it would seal her death warrant."
Crider turned away, keenly disappointed.
I got Inspector Rumsey on the phone again.
To him Mme. Storey said: "I shall be working myself on this matter, but it will be underground, and you won't hear from me till the result is known. I want you to put the regular machinery in motion, because nothing must be neglected, but I must beg of you to use the greatest caution. Unless you can take them by surprise, you will only find the girl's dead body at the end of the trail.
"It is about our
"As to the two men who attacked her," Mme. Storey went on, "I can only say that they were slender and active. They wore dark suits and tweed caps. There were several witnesses to the affair, and better descriptions of the men will, no doubt, reach you through the regular channels."
While Mme. Storey was talking, the buzzer sounded that announced the entrance of somebody into my room. She broke off, saying: "Send that out, and I'll call you up again in five minutes."
With quick nods she directed that Crider was to go in the back room, while I received our caller.
"Compose your face, Bella," she said sternly.
I put on my dark-rimmed glasses. They help me to look blank when I have need to do so. My heart was beating like a trip-hammer. In my room I found a slender, dark young man, who was apparently in the greatest excitement, but it was all put on, for his dark eyes were cool and hard. They bored me through like gimlets. Well, he got no change out of me.
"Is Mme. Storey in?" he cried, with seeming breathlessness.
"What do you want of her?" I asked.
"There's been a girl knocked on the head down the street and abducted in a car!" he cried.
I made haste to open the door, and he ran into my mistress's room. She was writing at her desk with admirable composure. She looked up in cool surprise. The young man repeated his announcement with added details.
"Good heavens! how terrible!" cried my mistress, springing up.
She turned to look out of the window, as was most natural, and I followed her. Quite a crowd had gathered on the spot where the outrage had taken place.
"Oh, they're gone," said the young man. "Made a clean getaway."
"Have the police been notified?" asked Mme. Storey.
"Sure, the cops arrived on the scene after everything was over."
"Why did you come to tell me?" asked Mme. Storey.
"Well, I heard somebody in the crowd say she was a friend of yours," he answered glibly.
I shall never forget the face of the speaker; sleek, sharp and insolent, with eyes as flat and expressionless as an animal's. He wasn't but eighteen or nineteen years old, but he looked steeped in evil.
"Good heavens!" cried Mme. Storey, opening her eyes very wide. "What sort of girl? Describe her?"
"I didn't see it myself," said the young man, "but I heard them talking." His description of the girl closely followed my own.
"That suggests nothing to me," said Mme. Storey, shaking her head. "I wasn't expecting anybody at this hour.... You should notify police headquarters. Use my phone."
But the man, acting as if distracted, turned and ran out of the room. Mme. Storey and I exchanged a look. Crider came in from the back room.
"That was one of the two who seized Melanie," said my mistress bitterly. "He had changed his hat, that was all. It was hard to let him go. After they had gone a block or so, he dropped off the car and came back to see what was doing. It's an old trick."
"I can pick him up," said Crider eagerly. "Let me trail him."
Mme. Storey shook her head. "He would lead you nowhere. And the risk is too great—to her, I mean. There is one chance in ten that she is still alive. She is very useful to them. But if they suspected that I had any knowledge of their activities, it would seal her death warrant."
Crider turned away, keenly disappointed.
I got Inspector Rumsey on the phone again.
To him Mme. Storey said: "I shall be working myself on this matter, but it will be underground, and you won't hear from me till the result is known. I want you to put the regular machinery in motion, because nothing must be neglected, but I must beg of you to use the greatest caution. Unless you can take them by surprise, you will only find the girl's dead body at the end of the trail.
"It is about our
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