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The Yellow Face

CHAPTER XXXVII. A PREGNANT MESSAGE.
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there was no mistaking the fact that it was anstruther who was standing outside and speaking in tones which denoted that he was not altogether pleased with himself. it might have been a coincidence, or, at the same time, it might have been intentional; though the latter suggestion did not appear probable.

"surely he can't have found us out yet," jack cried. "if he had done so it would hardly be policy to make so much noise about it. what do you think, mr. bates?"

bates responded cautiously that he did not know what to think. the real solution came from seymour.

"there is no coincidence about it at all," he said. "we know perfectly well that anstruther is a clever criminal, but even clever criminals cannot bring off important campaigns without the aid of subordinates. i have not taken up my quarters here entirely by accident, though, of course, it was necessary for me to be as far off the beaten track as possible. i have seen anstruther here on more than one occasion, and i think you will find he has come to consult one of his satellites."

"there must be a good few shady people here," bates observed, "though i don't know much about the locality."

seymour explained that there were plenty of doubtful characters living in the tenement. he suspected at least three burglars who had rooms on the same floor. probably anstruther was looking for one of these, and for some reason or other the fellow had denied himself. the loud tones had ceased now, and it was evident that anstruther had either left the house or found the man of whom he was in search. the discovery, however, was too important to be allowed to rest like that, and bates had a proposition to make. he suggested the advisability of putting one of his own spies on to watch anstruther and keep an eye upon him for the rest of the day. there would not be the slightest uncertainty about this, seeing that anstruther was so well known to the police generally.

bates crept carefully away, and returned presently with the information that anstruther was still on the premises.

"i met one of my men in the street," he explained. "he was just back from a job this way, and spotted anstruther coming in here. our friend is not likely to shake off the fellow that i have put upon his track. meanwhile, we are wasting time here."

seymour was decidedly of the same opinion. a minute or two later the trio made their way into the street, leaving seymour alone. he had been informed by bates that he would be kept posted of anstruther's movements by means of special messenger, and that his services would be called upon if necessary. thus assured, seymour went back to his mysterious business with the handcuffs and file, quite content to wait till his time came.

it was quite dark before the first message arrived. anstruther had stayed where he was till seven o'clock, after which he had gone out and called at a neighboring shop, which was kept by a man engaged in the occupation of making brass plates. this, so the message said, was merely a blind for the manufacture of the finest specimens of burglars' tools. anstruther had entered the shop with nothing in his hand, but had emerged presently carrying a small square parcel which might have been a picture frame. thus encumbered, he had returned to the tenement, and was now closeted in the set of rooms below seymour's with a man called gillmore, otherwise "simple charlie," a cracksman who stood quite at the head of his profession.

seymour's eyes gleamed as he glanced over the letter. he felt that he must be up and doing something. it occurred to him as a good idea to make an attempt to be present at the interview between anstruther and his confederate. it was absolutely dark now, so that seymour had no hesitation in raising his sitting-room window, which faced the back of the house, and seeking to find some means for entering the set of rooms below.

so far as he could see at first, the thing appeared to be impossible. his quick eye noted the fact that a powerful light burned in the room below, for the shadow of it was thrown strongly upon the blank wall opposite. to the left of seymour's window was a large drain pipe used for conveying the rain water from the roof to the sewer below. it was an easy matter for seymour to lash a rope firmly to the floor with the aid of a handspike, and to gently lower himself to the floor below by means of the pipe. the business was no easy one when it came to climbing proper, and only a strong man like seymour could have possibly done it. he dangled thus perilously in mid air, working his way down inch by inch, till at length his feet rested on the sill of the window below.

as he had half expected, the window was without a catch, which was quite in accordance with most of the fittings in the tenement. leaving his rope to dangle harmlessly within reach until it would be required again, seymour passed coolly into the room. he rubbed a match cautiously, and by the aid of it saw that he was in a small bedroom evidently devoted to the uses of some bachelor, for the bed had been made in a most perfunctory way, and the floor was liberally strewn with tobacco ash. lying on the table was a plan of some large mansion, with footnotes here and there plainly denoting the fact that the house had been marked down for some ingenious burglary. seymour smiled to himself.

he had evidently found his way into the quarters of which he was in search. listening intently, with his ear closely glued against the wall, he could detect the sound of voices on the other side. he was not personally acquainted with the voice of "simple charlie," but the round, full tones of anstruther were quite familiar to him.

seymour was, however, not content merely to listen to what was going on. very softly he made his way from the bedroom into the passage beyond. the door of the next room was not closed; indeed, there was no reason for the precaution, seeing that the door at the end of the passage was locked. there was a pungent smell of tobacco, mingled with the odor of a good cigar, and presently the loud pop of a cork and the fizzing gurgle of what seymour rightly guessed to be champagne. by creeping close and twisting a little sideways, seymour got a fairly good view of the room.

he could see anstruther lounging in a comfortable armchair, a cigar in his mouth, apparently quite at home in his humble surroundings. the other man was sucking moodily at a short pipe, and glanced uneasily at his companion. he was not much like the commonly accepted type of burglar, being slight and dark, and somewhat timid-looking in appearance. but every now and again the glance he turned upon anstruther was positively murderous in its hateful intensity.

"now, what on earth are you driving at, guv'nor?" he growled. "no getting at the bottom of you. i never feel like a fool except when i am working for you."

"that, my good charles," anstruther said smoothly, "is where education comes in. if you had had my advantages you might have stood very high indeed. as it is, you are an exceedingly good workman, and i, though i say it that should not, am a very good master. i suppose you know perfectly well that i am in a position to give you away at any moment. i could hand you over to the police, who would take very good care of you for the next fourteen years, and you could not give me a simple scratch in return. for instance, we will suppose it is my whim to identify you with that bank burglary last night. of course, you were not there, but i could prove that you were, all the same. and no cleverness of yours could save you from a conviction."

gillmore wriggled uneasily on his chair. his eyes followed anstruther's every movement like those of a dog severely punished; there was a suggestion of the hound that would have bitten his master if he dared.

"i know all about that," he grunted. "and you know i've got to do everything you ask me. it only seems the other day that poor brown defied you to do your worst and lost his life over it. that was a lesson to me. not but what i wouldn't be ready and willing to knife you if i thought it was safe. i am pretty bad, and so are some of the others; but outside of hell itself there is no black-hearted scoundrel as bad as you."

the man's voice fairly vibrated with passion; but anstruther lounged back in his chair with the air of a man who has just received a high compliment. he was a man who loved power. he liked to feel that he could pull the strings and move the actions of other men even when they fought desperately against his iron determination.

"all this is so much waste of time," he said. "i came here to-night to get you to do something for me, and you will have to do it, whether you want to or not. you know what disobedience means--three hours' freedom, and fourteen years in jail. no more of your confounded nonsense; listen to what i have to say."

"oh, i'll do it right enough," gillmore growled. "mind you, it's a pretty big risk. the police have got an idea that i was engaged in that maidenhead business. i know they've been watching me so close that i can't get rid of a bit of stuff, and i have come down to my last half-sov."

"i'll see to that," anstruther replied. "what you have to do now is to make your way into the great metropolitan hotel. you shall come with me presently, and i will show you the room i want you to enter. to a man of your ability the thing is ridiculously simple--quiet side entrance, iron fire-escape ladder, and all the rest of it. all you want is a few tools."

"but i haven't got any," gillmore protested. "i was glad enough to get away from that maidenhead business with a whole skin."

anstruther pointed significantly to the flat brown paper parcel which he had brought in with him. "you will find everything you want there," he said. "all you have to remember is this. you are to go up the ladder and make your way to the door at the head of the second corridor. a row of bedrooms runs along the corridor, and the room you have to enter is no. 16. that is a sitting-room attached to one of the bedrooms. i don't want you to do anything neat in the way of a burglary; you have simply to take a letter which i will give you and leave it on the table in the sitting-room. i want the whole thing to be absolutely mysterious, and here is a five-pound note for your trouble. and now i am going out, and you are to follow me. i will lead you directly to the quiet spot at the rear of the hotel, and the rest you must do for yourself. i don't think there is anything more for me to say."

gillmore nodded in a surly sort of fashion. he was terribly afraid of anstruther, who used all his creatures like puppets, and never afforded them the slightest information. his power was all the greater for this; he knew that he was hated as much as he was feared. he put on his hat and coat now, and gillmore rose also. seymour darted away back through the bedroom and on to the window ledge again. it struck him as just possible that gillmore might want to use his bedroom, in which case the chances of being discovered were great. but seymour made his way back again to his own sitting-room. once there he lighted a cigarette and sat down to think over the situation.

it was not long before he had made up his mind what to do.

evidently there was no great hurry over the little scheme which anstruther had planned in connection with the great metropolitan hotel, and doubtless an hour or two would elapse before gillmore found his way into the corridor. it would not be prudent to carry out the plan until the hotel was getting fairly quiet, so that seymour had plenty of scope for a counter stroke.

he spent the next hour or so in his bedroom intent upon some sort of disguise. something in the way of a mask, accompanied with side whiskers and a pair of spectacles, changed him beyond recognition. a little while later, and he found himself engaging a room at the great metropolitan. he appeared to be rather particular about his choice, and finally decided that no. 18 would suit his requirements. as he had expected, no. 18 was exactly opposite the room chosen by anstruther for gillmore's little plot. once this was settled, it seemed to seymour that there was no occasion for hurry. it was eleven o'clock before he made his way up to his bedroom. he did not close the door, nor did he turn the light on. he sat down grimly and patiently in the darkness to await developments.

the corridor was perfectly silent now, and either the occupants of the hotel had retired to rest, or had not yet returned from the theatre. this was the time, seymour felt pretty certain, that gillmore would set to work. with his room door ajar, seymour had a perfect view of the room on the other side of the corridor. it seemed to him that he could hear somebody now coming stealthily down the passage. then another sound grated on his ear--it was an unmistakable cry of pain and fear from the room opposite.

seymour crossed the corridor and coolly entered the room opposite.

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