the red seal-第8章

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t　in　the　bank's　care　a　month　ago。　Mr。　Gilmore　told　Colonel　McIntyre　that　these　securities　had　been　given　to　Jimmie　Turnbull　last　Saturday　on　his　presentation　of　a　letter　from　McIntyre　requesting　that　they　be　turned　over　to　the　bank's　cashier。　　McIntyre　expressed　his　surprise　and　asked　to　see　the　letter　〃　…　Clymer　paused　and　took　a　paper　from　his　desk。　　〃Here　is　the　letter。〃

Kent　took　the　paper　and　examined　it　closely。

〃This　is　perfectly　in　order；〃　he　said。　　〃A　clear　statement　in　Colonel　McIntyre's　handwriting　and　on　his　stationery。

For　the　first　time　Colonel　McIntyre　addressed　him。

〃The　letter　is　in　order；〃　he　acknowledged；　〃and　written　on　my　stationery；　but　it　was　not　written　by　me。　　The　letter　is　a　clever　forgery。〃


CHAPTER　V

THE　VANISHING　MAN

It　still　lacked　twenty　minutes　of　nine　o'clock　that　night　when　Harry　Kent　turned　into　the　Saratoga　apartment　hotel；　and　not　waiting　to　take　one　of　the　elevators；　ran　up　the　staircase　to　the　apartment　which　had　been　occupied　jointly　by　Jimmie　Turnbull　and　Philip　Rochester。　　Kent　had　already　selected　the　right　key　from　among　those　on　the　bunch　he　had　found　in　Rochester's　desk　at　the　office；　and　slipping　it　into　the　key…hole　of　the　outer　door；　he　turned　the　lock　and　walked　noiselessly　inside　the　dark　apartment。

The　soft　click　of　the　outer　door　as　it　swung　to　was　hardly　noticeable；　and　Kent；　pausing　only　long　enough　to　get　his　breath　from　his　run　up　the　staircase；　stepped　into　the　living　room　and　reached　for　the　electric　light　switch。　　Instead　of　encountering　the　cold　metal　of　the　switch　his　groping　fingers　closed　over　warm　flesh。　　

Startled　as　he　was；　Kent　retained　enough　presence　of　mind　to　grasp　the　hand　tightly；　the　next　second　a　man　hurled　himself　upon　him　and　he　gave　back。　　Furniture　in　the　path　of　the　struggling　men　was　overturned　as　they　fought　in　silent　desperation。　　Kent　would　have　given　much　for　light。　　He　strained　his　eyes　to　see　his　adversary；　but　the　pitch　darkness　concealed　all　but　the　vaguest　outline。　　As　Kent　got　his　second　wind；　confidence　in　his　strength　returned　and　he　redoubled　his　efforts；　suddenly　his　hands　shifted　their　grip　and　he　swung　his　adversary　backward；　pinning　him　against　the　wall。

A　faint；　sobbing　breath　escaped　the　man；　and　Kent　felt　the　whole　figure　against　which　he　pressed；　quiver　and　relax；　the　taut　muscles　of　chest　and　arms　grew　slack；　collapsed。

Kent　stood　in　wonderment；　peering　ahead；　his　hands　empty　…　the　man　had　vanished！

Drawing　a　long；　long　breath　Kent　felt　his　way　back　to　the　electric　switch　and　pressed　the　button；　lighting　both　the　wall　brackets　and　the　table　lamps。　　With　both　hands　on　his　throbbing　temples　he　gazed　at　the　over…turned　chairs；　they；　as　well　as　his　aching　throat；　testified　to　his　encounter　having　been　a　reality　and　not　a　fantastic　dream。　　His　glance　traveled　this　way　and　that　about　the　room　and　rested　longest　on　the　opposite　side　of　the　room　where　he　had　pinned　the　man　to　the　wall。　　Wall　…！　　Kent　leaned　against　a　tall　highboy　and　laughed　weakly；　immoderately。　　He　had　pushed　the　man　straight　against　the　door　leading　into　Rochester's　bedroom；　and　not；　as　he　had　supposed；　against　the　solid　wall。

The　man　had　been　quick…witted　enough　to　grasp　the　situation；　his　pretended　weakness　had　caused　Kent　to　relax　his　hold；　a　turn　of　the　knob　of　the　door；　which　swung　inward；　and　he　had　made　his　escape　into　the　bedroom；　leaving　Kent　staring　into　dark；　empty　space。

Gathering　his　wits　together　Kent　hurried　into　the　bedroom　…　it　was　empty；　so　also　was　the　bathroom　opening　from　it。　　From　there　Kent　made　the　rounds　of　the　apartment；　switching　on　the　light　until　the　place　was　ablaze；　but　in　spite　of　his　minute　search　of　closets　and　under　beds　and　behind　furniture　he　could　find　no　trace　of　his　late　adversary。　　Kent　stopped　long　enough　in　the　pantry　to　refresh　himself　with　a　glass　of　water；　then　he　returned　to　the　living　room　and　sat　down　in　an　arm　chair　by　the　window。　　He　wanted　time　to　think。

How　had　the　man　vanished　so　utterly；　leaving　no　trace　behind　in　the　apartment？　　The　window　in　Rochester's　room　was　locked　on　the　inside；　in　fact；　all　the　apartment　windows　were　securely　fastened；　he　had　found　on　his　tour　of　inspection；　the　only　one　not　locked　was　the　oval；　swinging　window　high　up　in　the　side　wall　of　the　bathroom；　only　a　child　could　squeeze　through　it；　Kent　decided。　　The　window　looked　into　a　well　formed　by　the　wings　of　the　apartment　house；　and　had　a　sheer　drop　of　fifty　feet　to　the　ground　below。

But　for　his　unfortunate　luck　in　backing　the　man　against　the　bedroom　door　instead　of　the　wall　he　would　not　have　escaped；　but　how　had　the　man　realized　so　instantly　that　he　was　against　a　door　in　the　pitch　darkness？　It　certainly　showed　familiarity　with　his　surroundings。　Kent　sat　upright　as　an　idea　flashed　through　his　brain　…　was　the　man　Philip　Rochester？

Kent　scouted　the　idea　but　it　persisted。　　Suppose　it　had　been　Philip　Rochester　awakened　from　a　drunken　slumber　by　his　entrance　in　the　dark；　if　so；　nothing　more　likely　than　that　he　had　mistaken　him；　Kent；　for　a　burglar　and　sprung　at　him。　　But　why　had　he　disappeared　without　revealing　his　identity　to　Kent？　　Surely　the　same　reason　worked　both　ways　…　the　man　who　had　wrestled　with　him　was　as　unaware　of　Kent's　identity　as　Kent　was　of　his　…　they　had　fought　in　the　dark　and　in　silence。

Kent　laughed　aloud。　　The　situation　had　its　amusing　side；　then；　as　recollection　came　of　the　scene　in　the　bank　that　morning；　his　mirth　changed　to　grim　seriousness。　　At　his　earnest　solicitation　and　backed　by　Benjamin　Clymer's　endorsement　of　his　plan；　Colonel　McIntyre　had　agreed　to　give　him　until　Saturday　night　to　locate　the　missing　securities；　if　he　failed；　then　the　colonel　proposed　placing　the　affair　in　the　hands　of　the　authorities。

Kent's　firm　mouth　settled　into　dogged　lines　at　the　thought；　such　a　procedure　meant　besmirching　Jimmie　Turnbull's　name；　let　the　public　get　the　slightest　inkling　that　the　bank　cashier　was　suspected　of　forgery　and　there　would　be　the　devil　to　pay。　　Kent　was　determined　to　protect　the　honor　of　his　dead　friend；　and　to　aid　Helen　McIntyre　in　her　investigation　of　his　sudden　death。

Jimmie　Turnbull　had　been　the　soul　of　honor；　that　he　had　ever　stooped　to　forgery　was　unbelievable。　　There　was　some　explanation　favorable　to　him　…　there　must　be。　　Kent's　clenched　fist　struck　the　arm　of　his；　chair　a　vigorous　blow　and　he　leapt　to　his　feet。　　Wasting　no　further　time　on　speculation；　he　commenced　a　systematic　search　of　the　apartment；　replacing　each　chair　and　table　as　well　as　the　rugs　which　had　been　over…turned　in　his　recent　tussle；　after　which　he　tried　the　drawers　of　Jimmie's　desk。　　They　were　unlocked。　　A　careful　search　brought　nothing　to　light　but　receipted　bills；　some　loose　change；　old　dinner　cards；　theater　programs；　tea　invitations；　and　several　packages　of　cigarettes。

Turning　from　the　desk　Kent　walked　over　to　the　table　which　he　knew　was　Philip　Rochester's　property；　he　recalled　having　once　seen　Jimmie　place　some　papers　there　by　mistake；　having　done　so　once；　the　mistake　might　have　occurred　again。　　Taking　out　his　partner's　bunch　of　keys；　he　soon　found　one　that　fitted　and　opened　the　drawers。　　He　had　half　completed　his　task；　without　finding　any　clew　to　the　missing　securities；　when　he　was　interrupted　by　the　sound　of　the　opening　of　the　front　door；　and　had　but　time　to　slam　the　drawers　shut　and　pocket　the　keys　when　the　night　clerk　of　the　hotel　stepped　inside　the　apartment　and；　closely　followed　by　a　sandy…haired　man；　walked　into　the　living　room。　　He　halted　abruptly　at　sight　of　Kent。

〃Good　evening；　Mr。　Kent；〃　he　exclaimed；　and　took　in　at　a　glance　the　orderly　arrangement　of　the　room。　　〃Pardon　my　unceremonious　entrance；　but　I　had　no　idea　you　were　here；　sir；　we　received　a　telephone　message　that　a　burglar　had　broken　in　here。〃

〃You　did！〃　Kent　stared　at　him。　　Was　he　right；　after　all；　in　his　conjecture；　had　the　man　been　Philip　Rochester？　　It　would　seem　so；　for　who　else；　after　taking　refuge　elsewhere；　would　have　telephoned　a　warning　of　burglars　to　the　hotel　office？　　〃Have　you　any　idea　who　sent　the　message；　Mr。　Stuart？〃

〃I　have　not；　it　was　an　out…side　call　…〃　　Stuart　turned　to　his　companion。　　〃Sorry　I　brought　you　here　on　an　idiotic　chase；　Mr。　Ferguson。〃

〃That's　all　right；〃　responded　the