Mysterious Doctor Toke

by Johnston McCulley

 

Mysterious
Doctor Toke

by Johnston McCulley
Author of the “Thubway Tham” Stories, etc.

CHAPTER I.

A Minor Clash.

Help!” the cry came a second time in the shrill voice of a frightened woman, and still again: “Help!” and Doctor Toke sat up quickly in his chair and blinked his little eyes rapidly.

“Help!” There it was for the fourth time, as strong and appealing as before, with a note of terror in it.

Doctor Toke deliberately put the magazine he had been reading down upon the table that stood at his elbow, removed his spectacles and put them into their proper case, put the case into his coat pocket, sighed, and stood upon his feet. A sudden sparkle in his eyes showed that he was mildly excited.

“Ah!” Doctor Toke said to himself, speaking aloud but in very low tones. “Something tells me that this is the moment for which I long have waited!”

Now he crossed the room with short, swift strides, and reached the door that opened into the hall. Doctor Toke was a nervous-appearing man of medium size—bald and stoop-shouldered; a man who looked to be smaller than he was really—the sort of man who exhibits sudden and unexpected strength at times. The sparkle in his eyes had grown, and now there was the faint suspicion of a smile upon his thin lips—one would have said a smile of anticipation.

Doctor Toke knew from where that cry for help had come—that little apartment directly across the court from his own two rooms and bath. He had been observing the occupants and visitors of that apartment for some time, and he had heard high words there often before. But this was a downright, not to be misunderstood, shriek for help, and so Doctor Toke felt that he had every right to answer the appeal in person.

He opened his door and stepped into the hall, stopping to close the door after him carefully. Answering a woman's shriek for assistance did not seem to fluster Doctor Toke in the slightest degree. There was no haste in his movements.

The hall was narrow, half dark, and there were evil odors in it at times, as is likely to be the case in an apartment building where the tenants for the most part have questionable means of support, and often questionable characters or characters about which there is no question at all.

Doctor Toke hesitated for a moment outside the door, and then he stepped along the hall briskly as though with sudden determination, came to a turning, and so found himself on the other side of the court. There he stopped for an instant to listen.

There were no more shrieks for help, but there were more high words, and Doctor Toke decided that it was some man rebuking some woman in a vigorous manner.

None of the other tenants on the floor seemed to be showing the slightest interest in the proceeding. Doctor Toke was not surprised at that, for this was an apartment house where nearly everybody attended strictly to his or her own business, and expected all others to do the same.

Doctor Toke hurried on, and when he came to the apartment for which he was bound he found that the front door was open for half a dozen inches or so. Doctor Toke glanced through this opening and saw a woman crouching in a corner of the room, and a man standing in front of her in a threatening attitude.

“And you don't ever want to forget that!” the man was saying, in raucous, angry tones, as he shook a fist at the frightened woman before him. “And the next time——”

He ceased speaking, sprang forward suddenly, and grasped the woman cruelly by the shoulders to lift her from the floor. She gave a little cry of mingled pain and fear and struggled in an effort to get free.

Doctor Toke opened the door wider and stepped deliberately into the room. His little eyes were glittering now, and the suspicion of a smile had fled from his lips. Three quick steps he took, and came to a stop within six feet of the pair.

“I say, this won't do!” Doctor Toke declared in his thin voice, bending forward slightly as he spoke, as though to hurl the words at the man in the corner,

The man whirled, startled, gave Doctor Toke a swift glance, and then regarded him in scorn. He did not release the woman, and she continued her futile efforts to get free.

Doctor Toke had an instant picture of a brute face distorted with rage, but he did not take a step backward, did not recoil or flinch, did not show in any degree that he was startled or afraid.

“It won't ever do!” Doctor Toke continued, snapping out the words. “We can't have women mistreated, my man, you know! It won't do at all!”

“Run along, little one,” the other advised in sneering tones. “Run along—and, if you don't, I may have to break you in two!”

“Why, you confounded bully!” Doctor Toke exclaimed. “Release that woman instantly!”

“This ain't any business of yours,” the other told him. “You must be some kind of a nut, buttin' in on other people's private affairs.”

“The lady called for help, and I heard her,” Doctor Toke explained. “I responded to her call—and I am here now to be of assistance to her, if she wishes it.”

“You're a hot one to be of assistance to anybody,” the other said, looking Doctor Toke over carefully from head to heels.

“Are you attempting to make fun of me?” Doctor Toke asked. “My heavens, what a low character! I think, my man, that you had better clear out of here.”

“Who are you to be givin' orders?”

“I am a tenant in this building. And it is evident that the lady does not desire your presence.”

“If I don't get out, I suppose you'll call the cops?' the other asked, sneering again and bending forward, as though ready to spring upon his victim.

“Certainly not! I shall not go to all that trouble!” Doctor Toke replied promptly. “If you don't clear out, my man, I shall jolly well put you out myself!”

“You put me out?” the other cried.

He released the woman now, and she crouched quickly against the wall once more. Doctor Toke stood his ground.

A close observer might have noticed that Doctor Toke's body was balanced nicely on the balls of his feet, and that his hands were at his sides in such a position that they could become fists instantly and swing up and over. But the angry man before him was not a close observer.

“You put me out?” he said again scornfully.

Suddenly he hurled himself forward with such violence that the woman crouching against the wall gave a screech of fear and for an instant covered her face with her hands.

Forward he hurled himself, his hands reaching out—but he found that Doctor Toke was not there. In some unaccountable manner Doctor Toke now was behind him. He turned and charged back, and again he found that he had been eluded, and now his rage got the better of him as he gathered himself for another rush.

“You had better go without an attempt at violence,” Doctor Toke told him quietly.

“Yeh? I'll show you how to walk into somethin' that don't happen to concern you!”

“I warn you that I am—er—a handy man with my fists,' said Doctor Toke.

“You poor worm! I can break you in two—and I'm goin' to do it!”

“Very well, my man,” Doctor Toke replied. “If you simply must be taught a lesson, far be it from me to refuse to give it to you. Another example of mere brawn pitted against brains and skill combined! Tish, tush!”

Doctor Toke darted forward suddenly as he finished speaking, and the other man received a blow that rocked his head and made it ring. Once more he lowered his head, and rushed, his arms beating the air in blows that would have rendered Doctor Toke unconscious had they landed.

Doctor Toke merely did some light footwork and avoided those heavy blows, and in return he delivered many that found their target. Neither man was speaking now. Doctor Toke's antagonist was breathing heavily. The woman crouching against the wall was watching the combat through bulging eyes.

And suddenly, as they clashed again, she was upon her feet and at them.

“Stop it!” she cried wildly. “Do you want to have the police run in on us?”

Mention of the police did not seem to disconcert Doctor Toke at all, but it attracted the instant attention of the man with whom he had been fighting. He backed away, and when Doctor Toke made no effort to follow him he dropped his hands to his sides as a sign that the battle was at an end.

“I—I'll get out,” he said, speaking to the woman. “I'll come back later, but now I'll get out.”

“You jolly well know that you'll get out!” Doctor Toke told him. “You'll get out at once, my man, and no more words about it, or I'll put you out as I promised.”

“You and who else?”

“All by myself, I assure you. I'll not need the slightest assistance.”

“No?”

“No!” said Doctor Toke. “Heavens, what a ruffian! You jolly well need a good lesson! Terrifying a woman—fancy! My word! Gad, what a brute!”

“I'll see you later!” the other retorted.

“I always leave the building by the front entrance,” Doctor Toke told him.

“I'll be waitin'!”

“Beg pardon?”

“I'll be waitin' for you, I said.”

“There is no need for you to waste your valuable time waiting, my man,” replied Doctor Toke. “I am going out to breakfast at eight in the morning, to luncheon at one o'clock in the afternoon, and to dinner at six in the evening. Just be around the front entrance at one of those hours and you'll see me.”

“And I'll show you a thing or two!”

“We live and learn,” said Doctor Toke. “Tish, tush!”

CHAPTER II.

The League of Taurus.

Dr. Toke's late antagonist sneered at him again and then went through the door and out into the hall. Doctor Toke stepped to the doorway and watched the other turn to the left, going toward the rear stairs of the apartment house. Toke smiled when he noticed that, and then his face assumed a blank expression, and he turned to face the woman again.

“I am happy if I have been of assistance to you, madam,” Doctor Toke said. “It always grieves me to find a lady in distress. I am glad that I heard your call for assistance. If there is nothing more than I can do, I'll go.”

“Please wait a moment,” she said, stepping closer to him. “Close the door.”

Doctor Toke complied with her request, and then turned toward her questioningly, blinking his eyes again, rubbing at the bald spot on the back of his head. Doctor Toke did not have a heroic appearance, but then many heroes do not.

“My name is Mary Gibson,” said the woman. “I—I want to thank you.”

“No thanks necessary, my dear Miss Gibson. Or, is it Mrs. Gibson?”

“It is Miss Gibson. And I feel that I want you to understand what happened. You see, that man is Ben Stacker, a half brother of mine. He—he seems to have the idea that I should keep him in money all the time.”

“Why, the low scoundrel!” said Doctor Toke.

“He always has abused me, since I Was a little girl,” she continued. “I am afraid he is what you would call worthless. I used to admire him and think that he was quite a man, but I have changed my mind in the last few months. He came here to-day to demand more money from me, and when I told him that I did not care to give him any more, that I needed what I had, he grew angry and started to abuse me. Perhaps I should not have called for help, but I was frightened.”

“You did perfectly right, my dear Miss Gibson,” Doctor Toke assured her. “I am glad to have been within call.”

“He is a very vindictive man. You had better watch out for him, Doctor Toke.”

“You know my name?” Toke asked in surprise.

“I know that you are known here as Doctor Toke,” she replied with a faint smile. “You have been living in the little apartment just across the court for about a month. I have seen you there often, always reading.”

“I—er—I love to read,” Toke replied.

“I have noticed that you do not go out much,” she said, and once more there was a peculiar expression in her face.

“That is true, I do not,” Toke said. “I have—er—what you would call retired.”

“Then you must have been very fortunate in your youth,” Mary Gibson told him. “I should take you to be no more than forty now—and you have retired. But I am surprised that a man with money would live in a place like this.”

Doctor Toke seemed to be bewildered for a moment, and then he smiled at her.

“I am far from being a wealthy man,” he said. “I did not mean that I have retired because I have all the money I want.”

“You are a physician?” she asked.

“A doctor of philosophy, my dear Miss Gibson, not a physician. Tish, tush!”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Tish, tush! Merely a meaningless phrase for use when one wants to make talk and has nothing to say. As for this apartment house—it is quiet here, save at rare intervals, and nobody concerns himself or herself too much with the business of another person, if you gather my meaning.”

“I think that I understand,” she replied. “Many of us dislike to have other persons bother about our business.”

She emphasized the last word of her speech in a peculiar manner, but Doctor Toke did not seem to notice it at all. They had seated themselves beside the table in the middle of the room, and the woman was watching him in an unusual manner, but Doctor Toke did not seem to notice that, either.

“Now and then,” he said, “you will find a man of middle age who seeks seclusion.”

“Yes.”

“Tired of the world momentarily, he wishes to—er—take it easy for a time, as the saying is, and he jolly well knows that the only way to do it is to get off by himself, where he is not known to everybody.”

“Exactly!” said Mary Gibson. “Often a man wishes to go some place where he is not known.”

“Where he cannot be found by his friends——”

“Or the police!” she added.

“Beg pardon?”

“Where he cannot be found by the police,” she repeated, bending over the table and regarding him closely.

“I am afraid that I do not quite understand. Tired of the busy world and——”

“And a bit afraid.”

“Beg pardon?” said Doctor Toke again.

“You are English, are you not? You look English, and you speak like an Englishman.”

“Yes, I am English,” Doctor Toke admitted.

“Ever hear of Scotland Yard?”

“Scotland Yard? Rather! Naturally! What Londoner has not heard of Scotland Yard? Rather a silly question, if you'll be kind enough to pardon me for saying so.”

“Scotland Yard never forgets, it is said—and never quits!” Mary Gibson said.

“Meaning when they are after some poor devil for a crime? Oh, I say! I have known—er—I have heard of instances where Scotland Yard has been jolly well put out to close a case.”

“There are a few such instances,” Mary Gibson said.

“You seem to know a lot about it.”

“I have read widely. I always have been interested in such things,” she replied.

“Fancy that!”

“I believe that I can tell a criminal as quickly as any other human being alive. For instance, a man wanted by the police for something, and hiding out—in some quiet place.”

“Oh, I say!” Doctor Toke exclaimed. “You are not a detective, or anything of that sort?”

“Scarcely,” she replied, smiling again.

“You interest me,” Doctor Toke admitted. “Fancy a woman reading up on that sort of thing! And I am glad that I have found some one who agrees with me that Scotland Yard is not perfection. Now, for instance, take the League of Taurus—— Oh, by Jove! Perhaps I should not have mentioned that.”

“Why not?” she asked sweetly.

Mary Gibson bent back in her chair and raised her hands. She glanced past Doctor Toke at the wall, and for an instant her fingers were crossed in a peculiar manner.

“My word!” Doctor Toke gasped.

And now he grinned, and raised his own hands, and for a moment he manipulated his own fingers in a rapid and rather ridiculous fashion, while she watched.

“So!” she said, laughing merrily. And then she lowered her voice and spoke rapidly and cautiously. “I guessed it, didn't I? So you belong to the League of Taurus! So do I, my friend. So does Ben Stacker, the man you ran out of here. And so do a few others who call here now and then.”

“My word!”

“The American branch, of course,” she continued. “And so you are hiding out, are you?”

“Since you have guessed it, I am,” Doctor Toke responded. “A little occurrence—er—was of such a nature that it was deemed best for me to spend a few quiet months in America. I may say that I—er—got here in a roundabout manner, and without any too much money. I am not to communicate for a certain length of time.”

“I quite understand,” Mary Gibson said.

“I am a doctor of philosophy, as I remarked, my dear Miss Gibson. I also dabble a bit in chemistry.”

“Oh! You are the clever chemist who was mixed up in the Tangley case?”

“Let us not mention specific things, I beg of you,” Doctor Toke said.

“Pardon me, Doctor Toke. However, I am of the opinion that we understand each other.”

“I fancy so.”

“I am worried a great deal about Ben Stacker. He will hold a grudge against you now, and it will not stop him to inform him that you are a member of the League of Taurus.”

“I shall not worry about that.”

“He has been acting peculiarly lately. I think that he is dissatisfied with the way things are going. He always wants money. I am ashamed to say it—but we scarcely can depend upon him any more. He would betray nothing, of course. But he might refuse to play his part when we need him most.”

“The American branch of the league must be very lax in discipline, my dear young lady,” Doctor Toke said. “In England, I assure you, such a man would be given a talking to promptly. He'd jolly well be told on which side his bread was buttered.”

“Perhaps you are right. We work differently over here, Doctor Toke. Our organization is not so nearly perfect, you see. We work in small groups.”

“A great mistake. I shall have to mention it when I—er—return to England.”

“But we have one great advantage—the police are at sea as far as we are concerned. It is doubtful whether they know that the League of Taurus exists.”

“My word! Are they as silly as all that?” Doctor Toke asked.

“Even in England and on the Continent, I have been given to understand, the authorities merely know that there is some sort of an organization in existence, and do not know that it is called the League of Taurus.”

“You are well acquainted with the history of the league?” Doctor Toke asked.

“Partially. The League of the Bull, to speak plainly, founded some twenty years ago by a Parisian criminal known as 'The Bull.' He is dead now.”

“And his followers have perfected the crude plan he formulated,” Doctor Toke added. “Dear, dear! Think of answering a call for help and running into—er—comrades.”

“I believe that you said your funds are low?”

“I spend as little as possible and be comfortable,” Doctor Toke replied. “But I did not have the time to gather much money before I left, since I was in a—er—rather a bit of a hurry. And I was forced to travel in a roundabout way to dodge certain persistent officers. And traveling takes a deal of money these days. But I am far from being destitute. In another three months or so, I can communicate with—er—certain persons.”

“It is a shame that your talents must go to waste for that length of time,” she said. “I have been watching you since you came to this building. We make a point of watching every new arrival in the immediate neighborhood, of course. I felt convinced at the first that you were a man wanted by the police, though I did not expect to find you a member of the league.”

“I was directed to this place,” Doctor Toke said simply.

“If you feel inclined to do so, why not work with us?” Mary Gibson asked.

“That's a jolly idea. I'd like it.”

“It might be profitable,” she said. “But it is not for me to decide naturally. I am not the leader of this particular group. And we may need you. There is something on the fire now, and we may not be able to depend on Ben Stacker.”

“I'll be glad if I can be of service,” Doctor Toke replied. “I'm glad to get in touch with some comrades of another country. Possibly I may be able to help you out in England some time. I'll have to prove myself first, I take it.”

“Yes. I'll introduce you to the right man as soon as possible. We may have need of a good chemist, you see.”

“Something big, eh?”

“Perhaps you would not call it big, having worked in England and on the Continent, but we think that it is big,” she answered. “It should net us a handsome profit, at least.”

“I'm jolly well glad to hear that,” Doctor Toke told her. “It isn't only the money, though. I like to be active, you understand—hate to grow stale.”

“I quite understand.”

“You have—er—been connected long?”

“For some years,” she replied. “My uncle is the head of our group. His name is Welde.”

“I believe I have heard of him.”

“He will be flattered if you tell him that. But he is a clever man really.”

She sat close to the table once more, and Doctor Toke regarded her carefully. She was about twenty-five years old, he judged, and while not pretty she was attractive in her own peculiar way. She had splendid dark hair, and eyes that flashed. She was of medium size, well formed, and there was a look of refinement about her.

“My dear Miss Gibson, I hope that we are going to be famous friends,” Doctor Toke said. “I regret, of course, that I had a clash with your half brother, Mr. Stacker, but possibly we may be able to put that to rights soon.”

“Don't you trust him, ever,” Mary Gibson warned. “He is mean—and vindictive.”

“Don't fear, my young lady. I shall jolly well keep my eyes peeled. Tish, tush!”

“I shall speak to my uncle about it.”

“Don't go to any trouble. I shall jolly well take care of myself if it is necessary.”

Doctor Toke got up and bowed to her, and started toward the door. Mary Gibson arose and followed him.

“I shall be in my apartment except at meal hours,” he told her. “Should you want me at any time, you have but to call across the court, or signal me if my curtain happens to be raised.”

“I'll arrange everything as soon as possible,” she replied.

Once more Doctor Toke bowed and started to walk toward the hall door. But it was opened suddenly, and another man stepped into the room.

CHAPTER III.

Mr. Welde.

Just inside the door the newcomer stopped as though in astonishment at finding Doctor Toke there. He was a huge man with bushy hair and eyebrows, a florid face, a double chin, broad shoulders, great hands. His eyes were piercing, and there was something about him that seemed to say he was the sort to remove any obstacles in his path, and without taking the trouble to be gentle about it.

In everything he was the contrast of Doctor Toke. He seemed to radiate strength and power and determination. He had a personality, whereas Doctor Toke seemed absolutely colorless until he engaged in conversation.

“This is my uncle, Mr. Welde, Doctor Toke,” Mary Gibson said.

Welde stepped forward and acknowledged the introduction, and then he turned upon Mary Gibson a questioning glance, as though asking why this man was here.

“You are not ill, Mary?” he asked.

“No, uncle. Doctor Toke is a doctor of philosophy, not a doctor of medicine. He lives just across the court. Ben Stacker was here, and he began hurting me, and I called for help before I quite realized what I was doing.”

“And Doctor Toke responded?”

“I was glad to be of service,” Toke put in.

“You clashed with Ben Stacker?”

“He ordered him out of the room,” Mary explained, smiling. “And he started to put him out, too—but Ben Stacker made up his mind to go.”

“Pardon me,” said Welde to Doctor Toke, “but you do not look to be the sort of man who could handle Stacker.”

“Brawn and skill are not always in evidence until the need arises,” Toke said. “Tish, tush!”

“Let me thank you on behalf of my niece,” said Welde. “As for Ben Stacker, I'll have a little conversation with him, and I'll talk sharp and straight to the point. This sort of thing must cease, Mary, at once.”

Welde bowed to Doctor Toke as though to intimate that, as far as he was concerned, Toke was at liberty to leave the apartment. And Doctor Toke started to do so, after bowing in return and saluting Mary Gibson again. But the girl stopped him.

“Here is an interesting fact, uncle,” she said. “Doctor Toke is one of us.”

“One of us?” Welde reiterated.

“Yes. He accidentally mentioned the League of Taurus, and when I gave him the proper sign he responded at once, and correctly. We have been talking since.”

“You are a new one on me, Doctor Toke,” Welde said with suspicion in his voice and manner.

“That is easily explained, uncle,” Mary Gibson said quickly. “Doctor Toke belongs to the English branch, you see. He is—is hiding at present.”

“I had to make my way almost around the confounded old world,” Doctor Toke put in.

“He is a chemist,” Mary told her uncle. “You remember the Tangley case?”

“Oh, I say!” Toke exclaimed.

“Pardon me, Doctor Toke, for mentioning it,” the girl said. “But I must explain to my uncle, you see.”

“The Tangley case!” Welde exclaimed. “That was something big. We never pulled off anything that big over here. And so they are after you?”

“I managed to dodge them more than a month ago,” Doctor Toke replied. “But I must keep under cover for a couple of months longer to be safe.”

“And why should he not work with us?” Mary asked her uncle. “We cannot depend upon Ben Stacker any longer.”

Welde's eyes flashed. “It appears to me that you have been indiscreet, Mary,” he said. “Haven't you learned yet that it is a good thing sometimes to hold your tongue?”

“It is all right, uncle.”

“I'll see about that! Mary, put on your hat and go out for a walk. Take an hour or more. Doctor Toke, you'll oblige me by remaining here and having a little talk with me.”

“Delighted!” Toke replied. “It has been deuced lonesome, I can tell you. I didn't dare make any friends, of course. I've been doing all sorts of reading. Never go out except for meals.”

“Sit down, doctor, and make yourself at home,” Welde said.

He put his hat on the rack, removed his topcoat and put it there also, and watched while Mary Gibson went into an adjoining room and presently returned ready for the street. She smiled impartially upon her uncle and Doctor Toke, and then hurried through the door and closed it after her.

Welde got up and opened the door and watched the girl disappear. Then he closed the door again—and turned the key in the lock. Removing the key, he slipped it into a pocket of his waistcoat.

He turned and approached Doctor Toke, who was sitting beside the table with a smile upon his lips. Doctor Toke had seen that door locked, but it did not seem to bother him a bit.

Welde sat down on the other side of the table. He took an automatic pistol from his coat pocket and held the muzzle of it just above the top of the table, so that it covered Doctor Toke nicely.

“Now, Doctor Toke, I think that we'll have a little explanation from you,” he said.

“All the explanation you wish, Mr. Welde,” Toke responded instantly. He gave the automatic no attention apparently.

“It seems that you have made my niece talk.”

“On the contrary, I feel that I am the one to be censured,” Toke said. “I mentioned the League of Taurus before I was aware that she belonged to it. She already had guessed, it appears, that I was a fugitive.”

“You belong to the League of Taurus, do you?”

“Try me,” said Doctor Toke.

Welde tried him. Doctor Toke answered properly every sign that was put before him, replied properly to many queer questions, spoke of the efforts of the organization in England and on the Continent, and seemed to be thoroughly acquainted with crimes committed recently. But finally Welde gave him a sign that he could not answer.

“Don't know that one,” Toke said promptly. “Never saw it before. I suppose you think I am an impostor because I cannot answer, but I am not, I assure you.”

“On the contrary, I am convinced you that you are all right,” Welde told him. “That sign happened to be a little thing of my own invention.”

“Very clever! Good enough!” Toke replied. “Suppose you put that automatic pistol away now. You look silly sitting there and fingering the thing.”

Welde flushed and returned the pistol to his pocket.

“I understand that you would work with us,” he said.

“Be delighted to do it!” Toke replied. “Funds are getting low, and all that sort of thing. And I cannot communicate with headquarters for a couple of months or so—wouldn't be safe.”

“I understand. There is something brewing, but you'll pardon me if I do not explain at length just now. I am not quite sure of you yet, you understand. If we can use you, we'll let you know.”

“All right with me,” Toke answered.

“I don't mind saying that I have watched you since you first came to this apartment house. I settled in my own mind a long time ago that you were not exactly a law-abiding citizen. But I never suspected that you were a comrade.”

“Glad we found each other,” Toke said.

“You do some great things over in Europe. And we could do as great here. The Chief should pay more attention to America. There are great possibilities in the United States.”

“I am sure of it,” Toke said.

“I never met The Chief personally. I remit the percentage to him in a sort of roundabout way.”

“He'll probably call you over one of these days,” Toke said. “You and your work are not unknown.”

“My group never has had to call upon The Chief for help.”

“That's a splendid record,” Toke replied. “Did you ever get the feeling that you could work alone, and save for yourself the percentage you send The Chief?”

“Nothing like that,” Welde said, his eyes gleaming for an instant. “We won't double cross The Chief.”

“Couldn't if you wanted to—what?”

“We couldn't turn him up—no. We could hold back money without much trouble. But he'd get us in the end.”

“You'd better believe he would,” Toke said. “Know what happened to that group in Geneva?”

“I never heard anything about it.”

“They tried to hold back a part of the percentage,” Doctor Toke explained. “The Chief found it out, of course. All of the group are in jail now, one under sentence of death. The Chief got them in Paris and framed them.”

“They should have expected it,” Welde said.

“Never got in trouble out here, have you?”

“A few individual cases, and they all were bailed out and given a chance to make a get-away,” Welde explained. “The police have no idea that there is such a thing as an organization here.”

“Only one way the bobbies can nab you,” Toke declared. “Have to get you with the goods, as the saying is. They don't know The Chief, of course. But they could land a group at a time, and handle you that way. Only way, in fact. I've often thought of it.”

“I think you're right.”

“Know it!” Doctor Toke declared. “Tish, tush! Well, I'd better be toddling back to my own apartment, I guess. Read a while and then go to bed.”

“I'll communicate with you later.”

“Right!” said Toke. “Glad to be of service if I can—and I need the money.”

Doctor Toke got up, smoothed down his scant hair, smiled and bowed to Mr. Welde, and waited for the latter to unlock the door. Welde did so immediately, and bowed his visitor out. And then he closed the door and returned to the middle of the room, there to stand beside the table, his face suddenly distorted with rage.

He glanced at the windows to be sure that all the shades were drawn. Down beside the table he sat, and there he waited, his fists clenched, his breathing labored.

He had not waited long before Mary Gibson opened the door and came into the room,

“Doctor Toke has gone?” she asked.

“He has gone—yes.”

“Well?”

“Why, in Heaven's name, did you let yourself be indiscreet?” Mr. Welde demanded angrily. “Haven't you any common sense? Must you blat our business to the world?”

She turned toward him suddenly, frightened at the words and the tone in which they were spoken.

“He—he isn't a detective?” she asked fearfully.

“I haven't much fear of that. He seems to know every sign and every correct answer. He appears to be a member of the League of Taurus, and would be accepted as such by any member. And yet we are not sure, of course.”

“If he knows the signs——”

“Oh, I assume that he is a member of the league,” Welde said. “But you should have said nothing about our affairs. You were entirely too free with information. And it wasn't at all necessary to invite him to come in with us.”

“Aren't members of the league to help one another? And I thought that he might take Ben Stacker's place.”

“I'll attend to such things, if you please. You might have walked into a trap, and perhaps you have.”

“He seems to be all right,” the girl persisted.

“In some ways, perhaps—and perhaps not in others.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Welde bent toward her suddenly and lowered his voice.

“Do you know what I think?” he asked. “I think that he is from headquarters, sent here by The Chief.”

“Why?”

“To spy on us, little fool! To see whether we are sending the proper percentage, or holding out.”

“Well?”

“Well, we haven't always forwarded the proper percentage to headquarters, have we?”

“And why should we?” Mary Gibson asked. “What has The Chief ever done for us?”

“Very little, I'll admit—but only because we have not happened to need any help,” Welde told her. “We are a part of an organization, do not forget that. And we must be careful. Now you have shown this man the way. If he comes in with us, and works with us, he will be able to report to headquarters what amount we should send after every trick.”

“And what could The Chief do, even if he knew that we were not sending the proper amount?” she asked. “None of us ever has seen him. The deal was made through one of his lieutenants. We make the plans and do all the work, and send The Chief a percentage, we get nothing in return.”

“My dear young woman, disaster may come at any time. In that case, The Chief would help us all he could, He can control judges, he can see that bail is furnished and lawyers engaged. His power is unlimited.”

“Perhaps in England and on the Continent, but not necessarily in the United States,” the girl said.

“You are forgetting that he shows us the way to profits now and then,” Welde reminded her. “How about that diamond haul we made last summer? Didn't we get word from The Chief about that? Didn't he send us the full details, tell us who had the diamonds, and how we could get them?”

“Yes, he did. But why can't we work alone? Why not just send him word that we are done as far as he is concerned?”

“We belong to the League of Taurus, and that settles it! We have been holding back a part of the percentage, but we'd better be careful about doing that as long as this Doctor Toke is around.”

“Suppose The Chief did know that we were holding out on him. What could he do?”

“I tremble to think what he could do,” Welde told her. “Doctor Toke was telling me what he did to the group in Geneva. He had them decoyed to Paris and framed. All of them are in jail now—and one is under sentence of death. Toke told me that. It was what made me suspect that he was a spy, a man dropping a gentle hint in an effort to lead me into making an admission.”

The girl shivered as she started to remove her hat. Though she would not admit it, she felt a great fear of the distant, unknown chief of the league.

“There is only one thing to do,” Welde continued. “We must let this Doctor Toke in with us—but not all the way in.”

“And how can we do that?”

“You know the deal we have on now? We'll keep him out of that so he'll not know the amount of loot and cannot report it to headquarters, if that is his game. And then we'll frame up something smaller and let him in to have his share and make his confounded report. He may want to plan something big himself, but after all I am the boss of this group, and what I say is law.”

“But you think he is safe—that he isn't some detective on our trail?”

“I think that he is safe enough as far as the police are concerned. But I believe that he is a spy sent here by The Chief. It would have been better if we could have avoided him entirely, but it is too late for that now. Mary, be very careful hereafter. Many a criminal band has gone to pieces because of a woman.”

“Oh, indeed!” the girl cried angrily. “And who is the brains of this group, really? Who has planned the biggest things and acquired the best information?”

“Now, Mary——”

“Who planned the deal we have on now?” she demanded, whirling upon him angrily. “Who played lady's maid and gathered information? Who suggested the best way to make the haul? Tell me that!”

“I am giving you credit, Mary, for all that you have done,” Welde said.

“A woman always wrecks a band, does she? By talking too much, I suppose! You'd serve our interests better if you'd leave me alone and take Ben Stacker in hand. If it hadn't been for Ben Stacker starting to abuse me because I wouldn't give him more money, Doctor Toke never would have entered this room!”

“I'll attend to Stacker!” Welde said. “I've had about enough of his nonsense!”

“Is Crentley coming here to-night?”

“No. There is no sense in it. We'll meet to-morrow night and make final plans for the haul. And this Doctor Toke doesn't get in on it—remember that!”

Doctor Toke, in his little apartment just across the court, smiled at that exact moment. He had been listening with great interest to the entire conversation, thanks to a dictograph he had installed a few days before.

CHAPTER IV.

Crentley Shadows.

The following morning, Doctor Toke went out to breakfast at the usual time, ate a splendid meal, walked around the block, purchased some smoking tobacco, the morning newspapers and a couple of books, and then returned to his little apartment. No unusual incident had marred the morning.

At the proper hour he left the apartment again, intending to go to luncheon at a new little restaurant he had discovered in a side street not far away. He stepped through the entrance of the apartment building and turned down the street—and came face to face with Ben Stacker.

“I want to see you,” Stacker said surlily.

“Then use your eyes, my man,” Doctor Toke told him. “Use your eyes well—especially just now for a moment.”

Doctor Toke swiftly, correctly, and unobserved by others made the sign of the League of Taurus.

“Yeh?” Stacker sneered. “Maybe you belong, but that ain't got anything to do with it. Welde told me you was a member from England. But this little business between us is between man and man, and ain't got anything to do with the league.”

“Between man and beast, you mean,” said Doctor Toke quietly, “and I am not the beast. Raise your hand to me and I shall jolly well finish what I started in Miss Gibson's apartment. He who walks through the world seeking trouble generally manages to find it. Tish, tush!”

“I think you're a nut, and I always make it a point to take a smash at a nut,” Stacker said.

“Sort of a nut cracker, are you Toke asked, chuckling. “If I am a nut, possibly I am a tough one. If you intend doing anything, kindly start it. I want to go to my luncheon and then return and finish an excellent book I have been reading.”

“You knocked me to Welde, didn't you?”

“Kindly make an effort to speak proper English,” Toke told him. “If I remember correctly, and I am sure that I do, I said little to Mr. Welde concerning you. It was not at all necessary. Mr. Welde appears to know your character, disposition, and history as well as any man could.”

Ben Stacker stepped a bit nearer, and his fists suddenly were clenched at his sides. His eyes were glittering, and he was breathing heavily. Doctor Toke glanced at this frank picture of an angry man and yawned in his face.

“I'm goin' to smash you!” Ben Stacker told him. “Right here where nobody'll interfere until I've had a chance to paste you a few! And then they can run me in, and I'll pay a fine. I'll say you shoved me off the walk and we mixed. And I guess you'll let it go at that—you won't dare mention the league or anything about our business, or say where we had trouble before.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Doctor Toke asked. “Have you no conception of the value of time?”

Ben Stacker could not understand the man. Often he had issued a challenge to fistic combat, and his antagonist had grown angry and either had shown fight or flight. But this peculiar Doctor Toke merely stood before him a yawned, and seemed to be experiencing no emotions whatever.

“Oh, I beg your pardon!” Toke said suddenly.

He reached up and removed his spectacles, put them into their proper case, and returned the case to his pocket.

“My mistake,” he said. “You'd not strike a man who wore spectacles, of course. Well, Mr. Stacker, I am not wearing the confounded things now, you see.”

Ben Stacker could endure this sort of thing no longer, though he felt a certain measure of fear. He was a slugger pure and simple, a fighter without science, and in the minor clash in Mary Gibson's apartment he had acquired the feeling that he was practically helpless in the hands of this man.

But he had gone too far to retreat now. And he had decided that a swift blow, coming at an unexpected moment, might stagger his opponent, and that a couple more blows delivered before he could recover from the first would finish the work.

“Buttin' into other folks' business——” Ben Stacker muttered.

And suddenly he struck. Doctor Toke merely snapped his head to the right, and Ben Stacker's fist flew over his shoulder, almost grazing his ear. Before Ben Stacker could regain his balance or draw back his fist, Doctor Toke had stepped nimbly to one side, thrust out an arm, and shoved Stacker off the walk and into the gutter.

“Now,” Toke said, “you'll be telling the truth when you say that I forced you off the walk.”

Ben Stacker saw red. He growled an oath and struggled to get back upon the walk. One thing now was in his mind—to smash his fist into the face of Doctor Toke and leave his mark there.

He gathered himself for a rush, and pedestrians in the neighborhood stopped to watch. But Ben Stacker did not rush, though Doctor Toke stood before him smiling, and apparently making not the slightest effort to prepare to defend himself from attack. As he started, a hand grasped his right arm in a grip of steel.

Ben Stacker whirled, half expecting to face some policeman. The man he saw was Welde, towering angrily above him like a giant.

“Stop it!” Welde commanded. “I've had about enough of your nonsense, Stacker. It isn't anything in my life if you and Doctor Toke batter each other until both of you are candidates for the hospital—but your battle might affect others.”

“Him and me——” Stacker began.

“Want to get pinched and have some fool police magistrate ask a lot of questions?” Welde queried irately. “Want to get tangled up in your answers and have a lot of us being watched just at this time? If you and Toke have to stage a fight, do it in private. Understand? Now you go on down the street. I want a little talk with Toke.”

Stacker backed away, grumbling.

“I'll see you later!” he threatened Toke.

“You know my meal hours,” Toke reminded him. “Or, if you care for a private affair, come to my apartment at any time, and I'll be glad to accommodate you. Tish, tush!”

“I'll make you tish-tush from the other corner of your mouth!” Stacker promised.

“You'll jolly well have a job on your hands if you try it?” said Toke.

Stacker muttered some threat at him again and went on down the street, and Doctor Toke turned toward him with a question in his face.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Welde?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I was going to luncheon. I'll be glad to have you come along, if you'll eat at a cheap place.”

“I'll buy the lunch,” Welde told him, “and it'll not be at a cheap place, either. Always willing to entertain a comrade.”

“That's fine of you,” said Toke. “Be glad to have you lunch with me some day—when I am in funds.”

They walked to the corner and turned into a side street, and Welde maintained a conversation that had to do with ordinary topics. Doctor Toke made no effort to bring the talk around to things in which they both were interested.

Welde led the way to a high-class restaurant, and they obtained a table in one corner of the big room. Having ordered, they continued their conversation about nothing much at all. But, having eaten, Welde glanced around to make sure that nobody could overhear, and then bent across the table and lowered his voice. To anybody else in the café, it would have appeared that here were two men talking business over their midday meal, as countless couples of men were doing in the city at that moment.

“You have met Miss Gibson, Ben Stacker, and myself,” Welde said. “There is a fourth member of our group, a clever man named Crentley. That is all of us.”

“Small group, but easily managed,” Toke put in.

“Stacker will have to mend his ways, or we'll have to make some other arrangements concerning him,” Welde went on. “But I want to speak to you concerning your own affairs, Doctor Toke.”

“Very well.”

“I have consulted with the others in the group. We have something on the fire, as I have told you, and it is about ready to end. They seem to think that it would not be exactly right to let you in on that for an equal share, since we have done all the work and are prepared to make the haul.”

“I can quite understand,” Doctor Toke declared.

“They want to leave you out of this, and let you in on the next thing. Meanwhile, if you are in need of funds, I'll be glad to advance what you need, and you may repay me when you are able to communicate with headquarters and get money.”

“Now that is very kind of you,” Toke said. “I am commencing to like you no end. I'll jolly well keep it in mind. Just at present, however, I have enough money with which to get along. No sense in borrowing from you until I need it, is there?”

Welde thought that Doctor Toke was pretty much of a man right then. And then there came to his mind the thought that this was a part of Doctor Toke's game, that in reality he had all the money he needed, being a spy from the headquarters of the league.

“Glad to step aside in the—er—present case,” Toke continued. “Wouldn't be right for me to profit without doing any of the work, of course. Hope to keep in touch with you, however, and help if it is in my power to do so.”

“Thanks,” said Welde. “We want you to keep in touch. We are not forgetting that you are a comrade. And as soon as this trick is over, we'll plan another and let you work with us. Right?”

“Right!” said Toke.

Welde spoke the truth—they wanted Doctor Toke to keep in touch. They wanted him where they could watch him, where they could be sure that he saw and heard only what they wished him to see and hear—and yet they did not want him around too much, either.

They left the café, and across the street a man stepped from a doorway and followed them at a distance. When Doctor Toke and Welde separated at the first corner, this man continued to follow Doctor Toke. The man was Crentley.

Crentley was tall, pale, nervous, a man not without ability. He was a sort of lieutenant for Welde, and he was a clever man in many ways. He had received his orders that morning to shadow Doctor Toke if Welde could find him and put Crentley on his trail. He was to observe Toke closely and endeavor to discover whether he really was a spy, or whether he merely was a member of the league fleeing from the law and wanting nothing except companionship of his kind.

Crentley had an easy job of it. Doctor Toke purchased some fruit at a corner stand, and then hurried back to the apartment house and went up to his rooms. Crentley followed him and watched him closely, but every move that Doctor Toke made seemed to be innocent.

Sure that Toke had gone to his suite, Crentley went to the other side of the court and knocked at the door of Mary Gibson's apartment. She admitted him immediately.

“He had lunch with Welde and then came straight home,” Crentley reported. “I guess that he is what he claims to be, all right. He certainly acts like he doesn't want to be out in the open any too much.”

“Go into the kitchenette, and you can watch him in his living room across the court without him being able to see you,” Mary Gibson said. “Of course he is what he claims to be—a member of the league. What we are afraid of is that he's too high up in the league, a spy of The Chief's.”

“Then it'll be our wits against his,” Crentley observed. “I have an idea that we can handle him, if it comes down to that.”

“A spy!” the girl sneered. “A common spy! And we have to smile at him and pretend that we are his comrades!”

“Well, it is the truth that we haven't done the right thing by headquarters, and I suppose The Chief has suspected it,” Crentley answered.

“And this Doctor Toke will catch us, if he can, and then there may be serious trouble,” Mary Gibson added. “We'll see whether he catches us or not!”

Crentley went into the kitchenette and settled himself to watch. He could not see Doctor Toke in his living room, as Mary Gibson had said, but he could see the front door of Toke's suite, and Toke could not leave his apartment without Crentley seeing him and following him wherever he went.

It was rather a monotonous job, but Crentley was used to such jobs. He lighted a cigarette, made himself as comfortable as possible, and prepared for a long vigil. Welde had given him strict orders to watch Doctor Toke until he went out for his dinner, and then to follow him closely until he returned to his rooms.

“Understand, Crentley, we are to keep quiet about this big haul while Doctor Toke is around,” Mary Gibson told him. “We're not going to hand over a big sum to The Chief, who never did much of anything for us, just because one of his pet trusted men happens to be in the neighborhood and watching.”

“We are not!” Crentley agreed.

“I have an idea that we can pull the wool over this Doctor Toke's eyes without much trouble,” Mary Gibson declared.

In his little apartment just across the court, Doctor Toke was smiling again, and his eyes were twinkling. The dictograph was still working faithfully.

CHAPTER V.

Graley Is Mentioned.

Doctor Toke went out to dinner at his usual hour, and this time Ben Stacker did not meet him face to face with a challenge to combat; but Crentley followed him carefully. Toke ate his meal at a little restaurant, purchased the evening papers, and then returned to his suite, and Crentley went on to Mary Gibson's apartment again.

“There's nothing to it!” he reported. “This Toke man eats and then hurries back home, and that's all.”

Crentley went into the kitchenette again. He glanced across the court. He could see the window of Toke's living room, and on the drawn shade of it was the shadow of a man's head.

“He's reading again,” Crentley said.

“He certainly is the bright, little seeker after knowledge, and student of the printed word,” Mary Gibson replied, laughing. “He reads all the time.”

“Well, when he is busy at his reading he isn't fussing himself about our affairs, and that is one good thing. As long as that shadow is on the shade, we have nothing to worry about as far as Doctor Toke is concerned. When are Welde and Ben Stacker coming?”

“Welde said that they would be here early. I'll get you something to eat, since you missed your dinner shadowing Toke.”

Mary Gibson busied herself preparing the meal, and Crentley went into the living room, where he could be more comfortable, and from where he could watch that shadow on Doctor Toke's window shade through a little square window above the built-in buffet.

As Crentley finished eating the meal Mary Gibson had prepared, Ben Stacker arrived. He looked sneeringly at Mary Gibson and greeted Crentley with a surly nod.

“All fussed up again, are you?” Crentley asked. “Got another mad streak?”

“Why not?” Ben Stacker demanded. “I ask you why not? In the first place, I'm flat broke, and Welde keeps on putting off this trick. And, in the second place, I want to take a smash at this Doctor Toke, and Welde stops me.”

“And it is probably a good thing for you that he did,” Crentley said.

“Oh, I ain't afraid of Toke! I'll make him tish-tush when I get the chance!”

“You'd better not take the chance for a few days, at least,” Crentley advised him. “The welfare of the gang comes before your personal spite. And you'd better remember that!”

“If this Doc Toke is a spy, like we think he is, why not let me smash him?” Ben Stacker wanted to know. “Why not let me put him in the hospital and out of the way for a few weeks? Why be so kind and tender to him?”

“You'd better forget all about Doctor Toke for the time being, Ben,” Mary put in. “Welde has a little game to play with him, I think, and he wants to play it just right. A little mistake might cost us a great deal, you know.”

“It couldn't cost me anything—I'm broke already,” Ben Stacker declared. “When are we going to pull off this trick? I thought that everything was ready for it a week ago.”

“We do the work to-morrow night,” Crentley replied. “We are to finish making our plans here to-night, as soon as Welde comes in. I guess you can hold yourself in for another twenty-four hours, can't you?”

“Maybe,” Stacker said.

“And if you are so crazy to walk into this Doctor Toke and muss him up, suppose that you wait until our little job is done, and then smash him some place where it won't be likely to cause all of us a lot of trouble.”

“I suppose I can wait,” Stacker replied. “But I'm going to smash him—and don't you forget it!”

Crentley looked through the little window again and saw the shadow of a man's head where it had been before. He sat down beside the table and glanced at his watch.

“Welde is overdue now,” he said.

“But Welde is the boss—and he can do as he pleases,” Ben Stacker said scornfully. “Let one of us be a minute late keeping a date, and see how he howls!”

“Maybe you're getting tired of this gang,” Crentley insinuated, looking up quickly.

“And maybe I'm getting tired of this poking around and doing nothing.”

“It is better to go a bit slow and keep out of jail,” Mary Gibson said, “And you'd better change your general tactics, Ben, or you'll be getting into trouble. Welde is about fed up with your nonsense.”

“Is he?” Ben Stacker asked sneeringly. “About fed up with me, is he? Doesn't like to split the swag four ways, eh?”

“You know that the split is always fair,” Crentley said.

“Is it? Oh, yes! About as fair as the percentage that we always send The Chief!”

“Don't speak like that!” Mary Gibson begged. “Never hint that we don't send the proper percentage to The Chief. Do you know what The Chief did to the Geneva group?”

“No—and I don't care,” Stacker replied. “All that I want is more action and more profit, and if I can't get it in this gang I'll get it in another—or work alone!”

Crentley chuckled softly. “You try to work alone, Ben, and we'll be seeing your name in the newspapers one of these days soon,” he said. “You wouldn't last twenty-four hours working alone, and you know it. You have ability in certain lines, but you're mighty short on imagination and brains.”

“I am, am I?” Stacker echoed. “Short on brains! Everybody in this gang has brains but me, I suppose! Well, I've got muscle!”

“And a tongue,” Crentley added. “You'd better let the tongue rest for a time, too. Welde won't be in an amiable mood if he hears how you have been talking.”

Ben Stacker sneered again, and sat down on a couch in one corner of the room, kicking one of the cushions out of the way. Crentley glanced through the window and saw the shadow. And at the same instant there came a knock at the door.

Mary Gibson hurried across the room to open it, expecting that Welde had arrived. She gasped when she saw that it was Doctor Toke who stood before her, smiling. But she was quick to hide her confusion and ask him in.

“Ah, good evening!” Doctor Toke said cheerfully. “Good evening, my dear Miss Gibson! And there is Mr. Ben Stacker, who still wishes to fight with me—if I can judge from the expression in his countenance.”

“Aw, shut up!” Stacker retorted. “When the proper time comes, I'll handle you, all right!”

“I'll be glad when the time comes,” Doctor Toke said. “I always like to have the inevitable thing over with. Tish, tush! Pardon me, but this other gentleman——”

“Mr. Crentley, Doctor Toke,” Mary introduced them. “I don't think that you know Mr. Crentley.”

“Only by sight.”

“Know me by sight?” Crentley asked in surprise.

“Of course! Naturally! My word, but you've been following me around all day like a silly ass!”

“Following you!” Crentley repeated.

“You jolly well know it. It has been amusing, really. Shadowing me, I take it, to make certain that I am a comrade and not—er—a detective or something of the sort. I haven't the faintest objection, my dear fellow. Shadow me all you like. But you are not very clever at it, if you'll pardon me saying so.”

Crentley flushed, and Ben Stacker laughed.

“Great little shadower, you are!” Stacker said scoffingly. “That'll be a good one to tell Welde!”

“Ah, Mr. Welde has not arrived?” Toke asked.

“He will be here soon,” Mary Gibson offered.

Crentley got up and stepped across to the window. He looked over the court, and his eyes bulged. On the shade of that window there remained the shadow of a man's head.

“Have a visitor, haven't you, Doctor Toke?” Crentley asked in a quiet voice.

“A visitor? Heavens, no!” Toke replied. “I jolly well keep to myself, as you may imagine.”

“But there is a man in your apartment.”

“A man in my suite?' Toke exclaimed. “Surely not! I just left the place a moment ago.”

“Look here!” Crentley said.

Toke stepped across the room and stopped beside him, and Crentley pointed to the shadow on the shade. Doctor Toke seemed to be puzzled for a moment, and then he laughed.

“That is a good one—what?” he cried. “You see—er—I have a marble bust of Gladstone on my reading table, and—er—the light is behind it. The shadow is that of the marble bust. Lifelike, isn't it?”

Doctor Toke chuckled again and turned back into the room. Crentley looked after him suspiciously. He was not at all certain, now, whether Doctor Toke had been in his apartment all the time. He had been watching the shadow of a marble bust. Doctor Toke might have gone out, mailed letters, used the telephone, done any number of suspicious things. Crentley decided that it would be better to say nothing about the matter to Welde.

And he began to find that he was commencing to hate this Doctor Toke, too. Toke had made a mockery of Crentley's work as a spy. Toke had laughed at it as though he thought it an excellent joke. Crentley began thinking that perhaps this Doctor Toke was an antagonist more formidable than any of them had supposed.

“Have you a chafing dish?” Toke was asking Mary Gibson. “If you have, I'll make all of you a delicacy. I am a wonder with a chafing dish, I assure you.”

“I don't doubt it,” Ben Stacker commented. “And I'll bet that you can crochet, too.”

“Why, confound it, are you trying to make small of me?” Toke wanted to know. “For a comrade, you are a most peculiar man. I shall have to take you in hand yet, and violently.”

Ben Stacker started to speak, but a sign from Crentley stopped him. Mary Gibson got out the chafing dish, and Doctor Toke took several small packages from his pockets. He talked as he worked, maintaining a continual fire of conversation of no importance, while Ben Stacker sneered, and Mary Gibson and Crentley pretended to be interested and friendly.

Their object was to treat Doctor Toke kindly, so his suspicions would not be aroused, spend a pleasant hour with him, and then get rid of his presence. Welde would be there soon, and then they would want to talk over final plans for the haul of the coming night—and they did not want Doctor Toke to hear them.

Toke cooked his dish, and served it on small plates that Mary Gibson carried to him from the china closet. It had the appearance of a harmless little party.

“What's all this?” Ben Stacker asked.

“A concoction of my own,” Doctor Toke admitted, beaming upon them. “In London, you see, I lived in bachelor quarters and often cooked for myself. I have invented a number of delicacies. This isn't a rarebit, and it isn't chili, but it is a sort of mixture of three or four things. Do you like it?”

“Great!” said Crentley.

“Delicious!” Mary Gibson admitted.

Even Ben Stacker became more cheerful as he ate, and Doctor Toke promised that he would give Mary Gibson the recipe, together with some others.

“Glad you like it,” Toke said. “I'll be glad to cook up such a dish again any evening. It's the only way at present that I can show my appreciation of finding comrades in my lonesomeness.”

Then he talked of many things, until Crentley and Mary Gibson began to have the feeling that perhaps, after all, Doctor Toke was all right, a true comrade, harmless as far as they were concerned, a man who at first seemed to be peculiar just because his ways were not their own. But Ben Stacker continued to regard him with distaste now and then, but Doctor Toke simply ignored him when he did so.

Then Welde came, and his eyes flickered for an instant when he saw Doctor Toke was present. Welde sampled the mess Toke had cooked and pronounced it good, and then began acting in a nervous manner, which was something unusual for Welde.

“I've got disturbing news,” he said finally.

“Bad news?” Mary cried.

“Yes. We have a friend close to police headquarters as I have told you before. I met him on the street about an hour ago. He says that Dan Graley is after us.”

There was a chorus of exclamations, and Dooctor Toke, glancing up at them, was surprised to find expressions of horror on their faces.

“That is all that I know,” Welde continued. “Those last two tricks of ours seem to have convinced the detective department that there is some sort of a gang at work in town. So Dan Graley has been put on the case.”

“Graley!” Crentley gasped.

“The great Dan Graley!” Mary Gibson moaned.

Doctor Toke sat up straighter in his chair and blinked his eyes at them rapidly.

“Pardon me,” he said, “but am I to gather—er—that this man Graley, whoever he happens to be, is a gentleman to be feared?”

“You'd better believe it!” Stacker remarked.

“An officer, is he?”

“Let me explain, Doctor Toke,” Welde said. “The great Dan Graley is a mystery to the local underworld. Nobody ever has seen him and been able to describe him afterward. Even the men around police headquarters do not know him.”

“Why, what a silly idea!” Toke gasped.

“But it doesn't happen to be a silly idea! This Dan Graley, whoever he is, has solved quite a few mysteries in the last couple of years. He's good. They say that he always gets his man. He works alone, it is said, and nobody but a certain captain of detectives knows him. The captain even draws Graley's salary and gives it to him.

“We have tried in every way to get a line on this Dan Graley, and we have failed. He is the terror of the department. He has put many a clever man in the jug. He's not human, this Dan Graley. He works alone and in the dark, and yet he gets results.”

“My word!” Toke exclaimed.

“Do you understand now? Nobody can give him away, reveal his identity. The crooks do not know him. Maybe he mixes with them as a pal, pretending to be a crook himself, but they don't know it if he does. He lands the evidence, turns it in some way, and other men make the arrests and give the testimony. Dan Graley never appears in court. Even the cops don't know him—except the one captain.”

“And you are afraid of him?” Toke asked.

“No!” Welde thundered. “I am not afraid of him. But I don't like the idea of having such a man after us. He doesn't happen to be trailing us in particular, of course. But if he is investigating those crimes, he may get on our track before long.”

“And what are we going to do?” Mary asked.

“We are going ahead with our plans,” Welde replied. “There are only four of us, and we work carefully.”

“If I can be of service, command me,” Doctor Toke said. “I should jolly well like to clash with this great Dan Graley and see whether he is so great. Tish, tush!”

“I can have an understanding with you in a very few words, Doctor Toke,” Welde said. “We have our plans about finished for a big haul, and we hope to turn the trick to-morrow night. And you are not in on it; hence you need not know anything about it.”

“Certainly not,” said Doctor Toke. “I don't wish to know anything about it.”

“Very well. After it is all over, and we have cashed in the swag and have sent the percentage to The Chief, we'll plan something else and let you come in. In the meantime if you want any money I'll lend you what you need.”

“That is fine of you, and I like your offer no end,” Toke said. “I'll bear it in mind. However if there is anything that I can do to help—without hope of reward——”

“Nothing in the present case,” Welde said firmly.

“Then I'll merely wish you luck for to-morrow night, and toddle along home and read,” Toke declared. “Any time you want another delicacy cooked in the chafing dish, call me.”

“You're not such a bad scout!” Welde said. “Good night!”

As soon as Doctor Toke had departed, Welde whirled toward the others, rage in his face.

“He's a spy from headquarters, and I know it—a man The Chief has sent here!” Welde said in a hoarse whisper. “It isn't enough to have Dan Graley after us—we've got to guard against one of our own kind, too.”

“Let me smash him,” Ben Stacker begged.

“You couldn't,” Welde told him. “He'd smash you. And that would not do, even if you could handle him. We've got to humor the cuss and make him think that we are square with The Chief. Pretend to be friendly, but keep your mouths shut about the haul to-morrow night. If the fool newspapers come out with stories about a big loss, we'll make fun of it—say we wish that we'd got the half of it, and all that. Now we'll sit up to the table and talk over our plans. There must be no mistake to-morrow night!”

They discussed their plans for an hour, perfected them. And Doctor Toke, sitting in the living room of his suite, heard it all, thanks to the faithful dictograph.

CHAPTER VI.

Easy Loot.

Ben Stacker was the first to slip away, and half an hour later Welde and Crentley left together, went out through the front entrance, and walked slowly up the street.

“I don't like the idea of Graley being after us,” Crentley said nervously.

“He isn't after us—he merely is investigating those two crimes,” Welde declared. “Mention of Dan Graley is enough to put fear into us, I suppose, as it did me at first.”

“And you are not afraid now?”

“Not a bit of it!” Welde declared. “See here, Crentley! We have been playing safe. I am Mary Gibson's uncle, and it can be proved. And Ben Stacker is her half brother, and that can be shown easily. You stand in the relation of a friend to all of us. Mary has a little money and is living on it, and that can be discovered easily by any nosy cop. I have a little cigar store, You work for me. Stacker is a ne'er-do-well. Nothing more natural than I should visit my niece frequently, Ben his half sister, and you a lady friend. Everything will look good if we are investigated.”

“That part sounds all right,” Crentley admitted.

“Very well. Our tracks are well covered on those other two jobs we did. They couldn't trace it to us in a thousand years. We have this all ready, and there will be a big haul. We carry out our plans—make the haul to-morrow night, let the swag alone for a few weeks, and then cash in. Meanwhile we'll attend to business in the cigar store, Mary will live her usual life, and we'll give Stacker some coin and send him out of town for a few weeks.”

“Good idea,” said Crentley.

“And then we'll lay low for a time and let this Dan Graley investigate to his heart's content. He'll never get a line on us through the 'fence,' either. We're safe if we are careful. We'll simply keep quiet for a few weeks before attempting anything else, and if Toke wants to get busy I'll tell him it is dangerous, and lend him coin if he insists that he needs it.”

“This Doctor Toke——” Crentley began.

“Is a spy from The Chief, and nothing else,” Welde declared. “He was sent here by him, without a doubt. I'll fix Doctor Toke. He'll be friendly with us, and Mary can watch him. At the start I'll tell him that we can't market the swag for a few weeks. And when we do market it, I'll tell him we had to accept a small price because of the danger. I'll take care of Toke, all right. And we'll just pull off this job, put the swag where we have planned, and forget about Dan Graley. I'll be a cigar merchant and you'll be my chief clerk—that's all.”

However, they kept their eyes on Doctor Toke the following day, and small good it did them. Doctor Toke went to his meals at the usual hours, and returned to his suite to continue his eternal reading. Evening came, and the three men met in Mary Gibson's apartment as though to take a late dinner there. Everybody in the building who was interested had learned long since that Welde was Mary's uncle and Ben Stacker her half brother. And they often took dinner there.

Doctor Toke dropped in on them as they finished.

“Hope I am not intruding,” he said. “Just wanted to greet you and wish you—er—good fortune. It's proper to say nothing more about it now, I suppose. I've had a deuced lonesome day. Gad, I'll be glad when things change! A man surely does need his friends. Tish, tush!”

“Drop in any time,” Welde said. “I'm sure that Mary always will be glad to see you.”

“Thanks,” said Toke. “I like this companionship no end. Only hope you'll let me be closer to you in your—er—next enterprise. Not concerned in this one at all, you know. Must toddle along now. 'By!”

Toke went out, and they ascertained that he returned to his suite and started reading again. His window shade was up a foot or so, and they could look across the court and see him plainly.

“Spy!” Welde exclaimed. “We've got to keep him close to us, and pretend that we accept him as a full comrade. Vamp him a little, Mary, now and then.”

“He isn't the sort you can vamp,” Mary Gibson said. “A woman to him is nothing. I've seen his type before.”

“Well, do your best to keep in close touch with him. He's a clever man, if you ask me. And now we'd better go.”

They left the building together, but separated at the first corner. Each man went a different way. But at eleven o'clock they met far uptown in a district filled with fashionable apartment houses and private residences.

They met as though by accident, spoke for a moment, and separated again, Each man had his share of the work to do, and knew just how to do it.

Welde made his way around the block and entered the mouth of an alley. Through the darkness he slipped, keeping close to the walls. He came to a gate that opened into the rear lawn of a pretentious apartment house, hesitated a moment, and then opened the gate softly and slipped inside.

There he crouched against a small shed, listening, watching, waiting for a signal. And presently it came, the whistling of a lively tune by Ben Stacker.

Welde crept across the rear lawn and came to a small door that led to the basement of the building. Beside the door, Crentley met him.

“Ready?” Welde asked in a whisper.

“Ready!” Crentley whispered in reply.

They slipped on rubber gloves and Welde took a key from his pocket and unlocked the door before him. They slipped inside and closed the door again. Through a narrow hallway they went, and so came to another door, and once more Welde took a key from his pocket and used it on a lock.

Now Crentley stood beside him, an electric torch in one hand and a handkerchief saturated with chloroform in the other. Welde opened the door an inch at a time, without making the slightest noise, and they slipped inside.

There was no speech now, even in whispers. Welde reached out and touched Crentley on the arm. The electric torch flashed—and before them they saw the old janitor of the building stretched on his bed, asleep.

Crentley darted forward, Welde at his side. Welde took the torch now, and Crentley used the handkerchief. There was a short struggle, a gurgle of surprise, a gasp, and the janitor was unconscious.

“Quick!” Welde was whispering.

They bound and gagged the janitor and lashed him fast to the bed. Welde inspected his bonds by the light of the electric torch.

“Good enough!” he whispered. “We'll not be having him at us when we make a get-away.”

Out into the hall they hurried, closing and locking the door of the janitor's room. They reached the first floor, and went rapidly to the second by way of the rear stairs, stopping now and then to listen, watching at every turning.

They came to a door in a side hall, and Welde unlocked it quickly, and they slipped inside. They were in the kitchen of a large apartment.

“Careful, now!” Welde whispered. “Negro cooks are inclined to make a noise.”

Once more Crentley prepared a handkerchief. And then they went from the kitchen, through a tiny hall, and came to the door of a room where, they knew, the negro cook slept. Mary had ascertained that some weeks before.

Welde discovered that the door was unlocked, for which he was thankful. They opened it and slipped inside. The first flash of the electric torch was enough to awaken the negro cook, and before they could reach her she gave a short scream that was echoed through the building.

But she did not give a second. Crentley was upon her, choking her, forcing her back upon the bed, pressing the saturated handkerchief to her nostrils. She struggled, and Welde was forced to go to Crentley's aid. Then her struggles grew less, and finally ceased.

“Hurry!” Welde warned.

They bound and gagged her, went out and closed the door, and then slipped out to the kitchen and listened there for a moment. It was apparent that the single scream of the cook had not caused any alarm.

Now they hurried through the hall to the big living room of the apartment, watching and listening. Welde slipped to the hall door and shot the bolt on the inside, so they would have time to make a get-away in case the tenants made an unexpected return.

“To work!” he whispered.

Crentley swung a picture on the wall aside, and before them was a wall safe, its knob glistening in the light of the electric torch. Crentley held the torch now, and Welde began working at the combination. It was an easy task for he knew the combination well. He did not even have to resort to a slip of paper—he had memorized the numbers.

A moment he worked and then pulled the door of the safe open. He tossed aside some worthless papers, receipts, registered bonds, and exposed the front of the strong box.

Now Crentley, without a word, handed him the tool he wanted. Working swiftly, Welde forced the strong box open and pulled it out.

“It's here!” he whispered tensely.

Crentley gasped in breathless amazement. In the light of the torch they saw jewels that made their eyes gleam—a diamond necklace, a rope of pearls, rings.

“Any time The Chief gets a big percentage out of this!” Crentley whispered.

Welde made no reply. He removed the jewels and slipped them into a secret pocket in one leg of his trousers. Then he motioned, and Crentley flashed the torch in the other direction. They hurried back through the apartment and came to the kitchen door.

“Careful!” Welde warned.

Crentley did not need the whisper of caution. This was the dangerous time, he knew—making the get-away. Many men had been trapped at such a time.

They opened the door, listened for a time, and slipped into the hall. Down to the first floor they hurried, on to the basement, closing all doors behind them. They went through the basement quickly, came to the outer door, and hurried outside.

Together they went to the alley and there they separated, going in opposite directions. Crentley, reaching the nearest street, turned back and passed in front of the apartment house. Ben Stacker, watching from a dark court between that building and another, saw him, and knew that all was well. Stacker reached the street and went his way, giving Crentley not the slightest attention.

CHAPTER VII.

The Surprise.

Doctor Toke had spent the evening reading an enthralling romance of the Middle Ages and watching the clock on the table beside him. Now and then he glanced across the court and saw that the lights were burning in Mary Gibson's apartment. At such times Doctor Toke would smile knowingly, and then resume his reading.

At five minutes after midnight the dictograph told him that Welde had tome into the apartment across the court. Doctor Toke listened with keen interest.

“Not a hitch,” Welde was saying. “Nothing wrong at all. I've got the stuff, and I'll hide it here as we agreed. Crentley and Ben Stacker will be here in a few minutes, if everything goes well. You have the lunch ready?”

“Yes,” Mary Gibson said.

“Serve it when they come. And remember that this is your birthday, and that we are celebrating it with a midnight supper. That story will go good in case there are any suspicions.”

“Midnight suppers are nothing new in this building,” Mary said, laughing.

Doctor Toke had pulled down the shade at his window half an hour or so before, and now he put a bookmark in the volume he had been reading and placed it on the table.

Ten minutes later he heard Ben Stacker arrive, and a few minutes after that Crentley came in.

“Not a word about the haul, now,” Welde was saying. “All of us are to forget it for the time being. We don't want to make some move that will bring Dan Graley down on us. Stacker, here are two hundred dollars. Take the money and leave town for a month. Come back a month from to-night. Crentley and I will attend to business at the cigar store, Mary will live as usual, and we'll appear deadly innocent if anybody sees fit to look us over.”

“How about the swag?” Stacker asked.

“Don't mention. it,” Welde said. “Forget it! The swag will remain hidden for three weeks or so before I try to dispose of it. I am taking no chances when Dan Graley is in the field.”

“And Doctor Toke?” Mary questioned.

“I'll handle Toke, too. I'll tell him that we have to lay low for a few weeks, that we don't dare sell the stuff now. And in those few weeks I'll train his mind to the belief that we didn't make much of a haul.”

Doctor Toke, in his own suite, grinned when the dictograph carried that to him. And then he got up, went into the adjoining room, got a few little packages, and left the apartment, to around to the other side of the court and knock at Mary Gibson's door.

Miss Gibson herself opened it, a little consternation in her face. She looked relieved when she saw that the caller was Doctor Toke, and she “made a face” at Welde over Toke's shoulder as he stepped into the room and faced them.

“Hope that I do not intrude,” Toke said. “I understand, of course—understand everything. Won't say a word about affairs, naturally! I was reading, glanced across the court and saw all of you here, felt lonesome——”

“It's all right, Toke,” Welde said. “We—er—succeeded, and let us say no more about it. Forgot to tell you before, but this is Mary's birthday, and we are having a little midnight supper. If you——”

“Pardon me. Don't want to be an uninvited guest,” Toke said. “I was going to cook up another delicacy for you——”' He started toward the door.

“I'm quite sure that you are welcome, Doctor Toke,” Mary said, at a sign from Welde. “And we'll be delighted to have you cook us something in the chafing dish. We are comrades.”

“Thank you, dear lady—thank you!” Toke said. “I am short of funds, as you know, but had I known this was your birthday I should have—er—purchased a present. You have my good wishes, at least.”

“Thanks,” Mary Gibson replied.

She got out the chafing dish, and Doctor Toke began his work. They watched him carefully, Welde with deep suspicion, but Toke said nothing more about the night's haul, and asked no questions at all.

Welde walked over beside him.

“Just a few words,” he said. “We are a little afraid of this Dan Graley, and so we are going to lay low for a time. None of us are to speak of this night's affair. Mr. Stacker is going away for a month's vacation. Crentley and I run a cigar store—so everything will look natural if Graley gets on our trail. As for the swag—I don't dare market it for a few weeks.”

“I understand,” Toke replied. “Good thing to be careful and cautious—what? I admire your cleverness. Not say a word about it myself, I assure you—even to you comrades.”

He went ahead preparing his dish. And after a time it was ready, and Mary helped him serve it, and all sat up to the table and began eating the birthday supper.

They talked of ordinary things, and in such loud voices that anybody in the hall could have heard, as though they had nothing to conceal. Doctor Toke was by far the brightest wit of the party. Even Ben Stacker, because of the two hundred dollars in his pocket, forgot his surliness for a time and ventured a jest.

Doctor Toke served another portion of his chafing-dish concoction and continued his rapid-fire conversation. Behind his spectacles, his little eyes were twinkling. He watched the other four closely now. They seemed to be growing drowsy, as though they had overeaten. Their speech thickened.

Ben Stacker had gone to a couch in a corner, and now his head fell forward and he sank back against the cushions. Crentley ceased speaking in the middle of a sentence, but the other two did not notice it. Welde's head dropped forward. Mary Gibson looked at him with an expression of terror in her face, started to speak, and found that she could not. Her head, too, dropped forward, and she slumbered.

Doctor Toke got quickly to his feet.

“Some mess!” he said, half aloud. “I am a wonder at a chafing dish—what? My word, yes! I like to play with the thing—like it no end!”

But he seemed not to want to play now. A serious expression came into his face. He darted across the room to Ben Stacker, took from an inside coat pocket a length of fine rope, and bound Mr. Stacker's hands and feet carefully and tossed him back upon the couch.

Then he went to Welde, and bound him, too, and then Crentley, and then Mary Gibson. He propped them up against the wall in a row, chuckled, glanced around the room once, and hurried into the kitchenette.

He was remembering, now, what he had heard over the dictograph. Straight to the flour bin he went, and dug furiously down through the supply of flour. Presently he straightened with a gurgle of joy. He held a small package.

Back into the living room he hurried, sat down at the table, and opened the package. Before him were the diamonds and pearls and rings that Welde had taken from the wall safe far uptown.

Doctor Toke looked at them carefully, inspected them, and seemed to gloat over them. And then he sat back from the table, his hands in his pockets, and glared through his spectacles at the unconscious four.

For the space of ten minutes he glared, and then he saw Mary Gibson lift her head, swing it from side to side for a moment, and then open her eyes. She recognized her plight instantly, saw that the others were bound also.

“What—what——” she began.

Welde was conscious again, now. He seemed to take in the situation at a glance, even as Ben Stacker and Crentley were regaining consciousness.

“You——” Welde began.

“No hard names, I beg of you,” Doctor Toke said.

“What does this mean?”

“Are you all awake?” Toke asked. “No sense in telling the story more than once—what? My word, no!”

“What's this?” Ben Stacker cried.

“Let me advise you to lower your voice,” Toke said, chuckling. “It wouldn't be wise to attract the attention of the great Dan Graley now, with these things on the table.”

“The swag!” Crentley gasped.

“How did you find it?' Welde demanded.

“I knew where to look for it,” Toke said. “You poor fools, I knew all your plans, heard everything you said about cheating The Chief and pulling the wool over my eyes. A dictograph!”

Welde cursed.

“I wanted to take a look at this swag,” Doctor Toke went on, “and estimate its value.”

“So you are a spy of The Chief's, are you?” Welde accused. “We thought as much.”

“I heard you talking about it over the dictograph,” Toke said. “I heard all that you said.”

“And what are you going to do about it?” Welde demanded. “We will send the proper percentage to The Chief—and then what can you do?”

“How about the percentages you did not send?”

“We'll make them up,” Welde said in sudden fright. “We'll send them right away, and we'll play straight hereafter.”

“A man is always willing to do that when he is caught,” said Doctor Toke. “Tish, tush!”

“I'll smash you——” Ben Stacker began.

“Stacker, shut up!” Welde commanded. “Toke, unbind us. You've got us, and we have to play square. I'll let you help me market the stuff in a few weeks, so you can see that the proper share is sent to The Chief.”

“There seems to be a slight misunderstanding,” Doctor Toke said. “You have been laboring under a misapprehension, the four of you.”

“What do you mean by that?” Welde demanded.

“Men are not always what they seem, in the first place. And I have assured myself that you four persons are not so clever as you think you are. My word! I've been playing you for a lot of silly fools, if you care to know it!”

“So that's your game!” Crentley cried. “Going to take the swag for yourself, are you, after we have done all the work and got it?”

“Oh, heavens, no!” Doctor Toke replied. “One moment, please.”

He got up and walked across the room to the telephone.

“How did you like that little delicacy?” he asked, as he reached for the receiver. “That is what I call a sleep potion. It's a good thing, but I fancy I'll not give you the recipe.”

He took the receiver from the hook and called a number.

“That is police headquarters, you fool!” Welde exclaimed.

Doctor Toke did not reply. He waited a moment, and evidently somebody at the other end of the line answered.

“Captain Merker!” Toke said.

There was another wait of half a minute, and then:

“That you, captain?” Doctor Toke asked. “Send the old wagon and half a dozen men to the apartment house I mentioned in my letter yesterday—and have them come to apartment sixty-five. Yes—that's all!”

He replaced the receiver and turned toward his helpless victims again.

“What's this mean?” Welde asked.

“Simply that another group of the League of Taurus is going to be wiped out,” Doctor Toke replied. “When the officers come, they'll find you four here, properly bound and helpless, and this loot on the table. Can you see what will result?”

“So this is The Chief's vengeance, is it?” Welde cried. “Don't do it, man! I'll give you the whole of the swag if——”

“I'm afraid that I cannot use stolen property, though the diamonds are excellent,” Doctor Toke replied.

He put his hat on his head, went to one of the windows and raised it, and listened.

“You tell The Chief for me,” Welde cried, “that when I get out I'll hunt him from one end of the world to the other until I find him, and then I'll remember this, and know what to do. And that goes for you, too.”

“I really am not afraid for myself, and I don't care what you do to The Chief of the League of Taurus. As a matter of fact, I think The Chief himself will be in jail over in London before many days. They are closing in on him, you see. Scotland Yard never forgets—and never quits!”

“Scotland Yard! You are from Scotland Yard?” Welde cried.

“Dear me, no! That English stuff was by way of disguise, and to lead you four boobs into a trap,” Doctor Toke replied. “Ah, here come the officers! I must hasten away. Wouldn't do for them to see me, you know. I work in the dark. And if you four were to see me again, say next week, you probably would not know me. I will be a different man entirely.”

“Who are you?” demanded the distraught Crentley.

“The great Dan Graley!” said Doctor Toke.