the drums of jeopardy-第7章

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girl；　able　to　take　care　of　herself。　　Magnificent　eyes　…　slate　blue；
with　thick；　velvety　black　lashes。　　Irish。

In　a　moment　Kitty　had　three　eggs　and　half　a　dozen　strips　of　bacon
frying　in　a　fresh　pan。　　She　kept　one　eye　upon　the　pan　and　the　other
upon　the　intruder；　risking　strabismus。　　At　length　she　transferred
the　contents　of　the　pan　to　a　plate；　backed　to　the　ice　chest；　and
reached　for　a　bottle　of　milk。　　She　placed　the　food　at　the　far　end
of　the　table　and　retreated　a　few　steps；　her　arms　crossed　in　such　a
way　as　to　keep　the　revolver　in　view。

〃Please　do　not　be　afraid　of　me。

〃What　makes　you　think　I　am？〃

〃Any　woman　would　be。〃

Kitty　saw　that　he　was　actually　hungry；　and　her　suspicions　began　to
ebb。　　He　hadn't　lied　about　that。　　And　he　ate　like　a　gentleman。
Young；　not　more　than　thirty；　possibly　less。　　But　that　dreadful
stubble　and　that　black　eye　！　　The　clothes　would　have　passed　muster
on　any　fashionable　golf　links。　　A　fugitive？　　From　what？

〃Thank　you；〃　he　said；　setting　down　the　empty　milk　bottle。

〃Your　accent　is　English。〃

〃Which　is　to　say？〃

〃That　your　gestures　are　Italian。〃

〃My　mother　was　Italian。　　But　what　makes　you　believe　I　am　not　English？〃

〃An　Englishman　…　or　an　American；　for　that　matter　…　with　money　in
his　pocket　would　have　gone　into　the　street　in　search　of　a　restaurant。〃

〃You　are　right。　　The　fundamentals　of　the　blood　will　always　crop　out。
You　can　educate　the　brain　but　not　the　blood。　　I　am　not　an　Englishman；
I　merely　received　my　education　at　Oxford。〃

〃A　fugitive；　however；　of　any　blood　might　have　come　to　my　window。〃

〃Yes；　I　am　a　fugitive；　pursued　by　the　god　of　Irony。　　And　Irony　is
never　particular；　the　chase　is　the　thing。　　What　matters　it　whether
the　quarry　be　wolf　or　sheep？〃

Kitty　was　impressed　by　the　bitterness　of　the　tone。　　〃What　is　your
name？〃

〃John　Hawksley。〃

〃But　that　is　English！〃

〃I　should　not　care　to　call　myself　Two…Hawks；　literally。　　It　would
be　embarrassing。　　So　I　call　myself　Hawksley。〃

A　pause。　　Kitty　wondered　what　new　impetus　she　might　give　to　the
conversation；　which　was　interesting　her　despite　her　distrust。

〃How　did　you　come　by　that　black　eye？〃　she　asked　with　embarrassing
directness。

Hawksley　smiled；　revealing　beautifully　white　teeth。　　〃I　say；　it　is
a　bit　off；　isn't　it！　　I　received　it〃　　…　a　twinkle　coming　into　his
eyes　…　〃in　a　situation　that　had　moribund　perspectives。〃

〃Moribund　perspectives；〃　repeated　Kitty；　casting　the　phrase　about
in　her　mind　in　search　of　an　equivalent　less　academic。

〃I　am　young　and　healthy；　and　I　wanted　to　live；〃　he　said；　gravely。
〃I　am　curious　to　know　what　is　going　to　happen　to…morrow　and　other
to…morrows。〃

Somewhere　near　by　a　door　was　slammed　violently。　　Kitty；　every　muscle
in　her　body　tense；　jumped　convulsively；　with　the　result　that　her
finger　pressed　automatically　the　trigger　of　her　pistol。　　The　fan
popped　out　gayly。

Hawksley　stared　at　the　fan；　quite　as　astonished　as　Kitty。　　Then　he
broke　into　low；　rollicking　laughter；　which　Kitty；　because　her　basic
corpuscle　was　Irish；　perforce　had　to　join。　　For　all　her　laughter　she
retreated；　furious　and　alarmed。

〃Fancy！　　I　say；　now；　you're　jolly　plucky　to　face　a　scoundrel　like
me　with　that。〃

〃I　don't　just　know　what　to　make　of　you；〃　said　Kitty；　irresolutely；
flinging　the　fan　into　a　corner。

〃You　have　revivified　a　celestial　spark　…　my　faith　in　human　beings。
I　beg　of　you　not　to　be　afraid　of　me。　　I　am　quite　harmless。　　I　am
very　grateful　for　the　meal。　　Yours　is　the　one　act　of　kindness　I　have
known　in　weeks。　　I　will　return　to　Gregor's　apartment　at　once。　　But
before　I　go　please　accept　this。　　I　rather　suspect；　you　know；　that
you　live　alone；　and　that　fan　is　amusing　and　not　particularly
suitable。〃　　He　rose　and　unsmilingly　laid　upon　the　table　one　of　those
heavy　blue…black　bull…dogs　of　war；　a　regulation　revolver。　　Kitty
understood　what　this　courteous　act　signified；　he　was　disarming
himself　to　reassure　her。

〃Sit　down；〃　she　ordered。　　Either　he　was　harmless　or　he　wasn't。　　If
he　wasn't　she　was　utterly　at　his　mercy。　　She　might　be　able　to　lift
that　terrible…looking　engine　of　murder；　battle；　and　sudden　death
with　the　aid　of　both　hands；　but　to　aim　and　fire　it　…　　never　in　this
world！　　〃As　I　came　in　to…night　I　found　a　note　in　the　hall　from　Mr。
Gregory。　　I　will　fetch　it。　　But　you　call　him　Gregor？〃

〃His　name　is　Stefani　Gregor；　and　years　and　years　ago　he　dandled　me
on　his　knees。　　I　promise　not　to　move　until　you　return。〃

Subdued　by　she　knew　not　what；　no　longer　afraid；　Kitty　moved　out　of
the　kitchen。　　She　had　offered　Gregory's　letter　as　an　excuse　to　reach
the　telephone。　　Once　there；　however；　she　did　not　take　the　receiver
off　the　hook。　　Instead　she　whistled　down　the　tube　for　the　janitor。

〃This　is　Miss　Conover。　　Come　up　to　my　apartment　in　ten　minutes。。。。
　　No；　it's　not　the　water　pipes。。。。　　In　ten　minutes〃

Nothing　very　serious　could　happen　inside　of　ten　minutes；　and　the
janitor　was　reliable　and　not　the　sort　one　reads　about　in　the　comic
weeklies。　　Her　confidence　reenforced　by　the　knowledge　that　a　friend
was　near；　she　took　the　letter　into　the　kitchen。　　Apparently　her
unwelcome　guest　had　not　stirred。　　The　revolver　was　where　he　had
laid　it。

〃Read　this；〃　she　said。

The　visitor　glanced　through　it。　　〃It　is　Gregor's　hand。　　Poor　old
chap！　　I　shall　never　forgive　my　self。〃

〃For　what？〃

〃For　dragging　him　into　this。　　They　must　have　intercepted　one　of　my
telegrams。〃　　He　stared　dejectedly　at　the　strip　of　oilcloth　in　front
of　the　range。　　〃You　are　an　American？〃

〃Yes。〃

〃God　has　been　exceedingly　kind　to　your　country。　　I　doubt　if　you　will
ever　know　how　kind。　　I'll　take　myself　off。　　No　sense　in　compromising
you。〃　　He　laid　a　folded　handkerchief　inside　his　cap　which　he　put　on。
〃Know　anything　about　this？〃　…　indicating　the　revolver。

〃Nothing　whatever。〃

〃Permit　me　to　show　you。　　It　is　loaded；　there　are　five　bullets　in　the
clip。　　See　this　little　latch？　　So；　it　is　harmless。　　So；　and　you　kill
with　it。〃

〃It　is　horrible！〃　cried　Kitty。　　〃Take　it　with　you　please。　　I　could
not　keep　my　eyes　open　to　shoot　it。〃

〃These　are　troublous　times。　　All　women　should　know　something　about
small　arms。　　Again　I　thank　you。　　For　your　own　sake　I　trust　that　we
may　never　meet　again。　　Good…bye。〃　　He　stepped　out　of　the　window　and
vanished。

Kitty；　at　a　mental　impasse；　could　only　stare　into　the　night　beyond
the　window。　　This　mesmeric　state　endured　for　a　minute；　then　a　gentle
and　continuous　sound　dissipated　the　spell。　　It　was　raining。
Obliquely　she　saw　the　burnt　egg　in　the　pan。　　The　thing　had　happened；
she　had　not　been　dreaming。

Her　brain　awoke。　　Thought　crowded　thought；　before　one　matured　another
displaced　it；　and　all　as　futile　as　the　sparks　from　the　anvil。　　An
avalanche　of　conjecture；　and　out　of　it　all　eventually　emerged　one
concrete　fact。　　The　man　Was　honest。　　His　hunger　had　been　honest；　his
laughter。　　Who　was　he；　what　was　he？　　For　all　his　speech；　not　English；
for　all　his　gestures；　not　Italian。　　Moribund　perspectives。　　Somewhere
that　day　he　had　fought　for　his　life。　　John　Two…Hawks。

And　there　was　the　mysterious　evanishment　of　old　Gregory；　whose　name
was　Stefani　Gregor。　　In　a　humdrum；　prosaic　old　apartment　like　this！

Kitty　had　ideas　about　adventure　…　an　inheritance；　though　she　was　not
aware　of　that。　　There　had　to　be　certain　ingredients；　principally
mystery。　　Anything　sordid　must　not　be　permitted　to　edge　in。　　She　had
often　gone　forth　upon　semi…perilous　enterprises　as　a　reporter；
entered　sinister　houses　where　crimes　had　been　committed；　but　always
calculating　how　much　copy　at　eight　dollars　a　column　could　be　squeezed
out　of　the　affair。　　But　this　promised　to　be　something　like　those
tales　which　were　always　clear　and　wonderful　in　her　head　but　more　or
less　opaque　when　she　attempted　to　transfer　them　to　paper。　　A　secret
society？　　Vengeance？　　An　echo　of　the　war？

〃Johnny　Two…Hawks；〃　she　murmured　aloud。　　〃And　he　hopes　we'll　never
meet　again！〃

There　was　a　mirror　over　the　sink；　and　she　threw　a　glance　into　it。
Very　well；　if　he　thought　like　that　about　it。

Here　the　doorbell　tinkled。　　That　would　be　the　faithful　janitor。　　She
ran　to　the　door。

〃Whadjuh　wanta　see　me　about；　Miz　Conover？〃

〃What　has　happened　to　old　Mr。　Gregory？〃

〃Him？　　Why；　some　amb'lance　fellers　carted　him　off　this　afternoon。
Didn't　know　nawthin'　was　the　matter　with　'im　until　I　runs　into　them
in　the　hall。〃

〃He'd　been　hurt？〃

〃Couldn't　say；　miz。　　He　was　on　a　stretcher　when　I　seen　'im。　　Under
a　sheet。〃

〃But　he　might　have　been　dead！〃

〃Nope。　　I　ast　'em；　an'　they　said　a　shock　of　some　sort。〃

〃What　hospital？〃

〃Gee；　I　forgot　t'ast　that！〃

〃I'll　find　out。　　Good…night。〃

But　Kitty　did　not　find　out。　　She　called　up　all　the　known　private　and
public　hospitals；　but　no　Gregor　or　Gregory　had　been　received　that
afternoon；　nor　anybody　answering　his　description。　　The　fog　had
swallowed　up　Stefani　Gregor。



CHAPTER　VI


The　reportorial　instinct　in　Kitty　Conover；　combined　with　her　natural
feminine　curiosity；　impelled　her　to　seek　to　the　bottom　of　affair。
Her　newspaper　was　as　far　from　her　as　the　poles；　simply　a　paramount
desire　to　translate　the　incomprehensible　into　sequence　and
consequence。　　Harmless　old　Gregor's　disappearance　and　the　advent　of
John　Two…Hawks　…　the　absurdity　of　that　name！　　…　with　his　impeccable
English　accent；　his　Latin　gestures；　and　his　black　eye；　convinced　her
that　it　was　political；　an　electrical　cross　current　out　of　that　broken
world　over　there。　　Moribund　perspectives。　　What　did　that　signify　save
that　Johnny　Two…Hawks　had　fought　somewhere　that　day　for　his　life？
Had　Gregor　been　spirited　away　so　as　to　leave　Two…Hawks　without
support；　to　confuse　and　discourage　him　and　break　down　his　powers　of
resistance？　　Or　had　there　been　something　of　great　value　in　the　Gregor
apartment；　and　Johnny　Two…Hawks　had　come　too　late　to　save　his　friend？

A　word　slipped　into　her　mind　like　a　whiff　of　miasma　off　an　evil　swamp。
As　she　recognized　the　word　she　felt　the　same　horror　and　repugnance
one　senses　upon　being　unexpectedly　confronted　by　a　cobra。
Internationalism。　　The　scum　of　the　world　boiling　to　the　top。　　A
half…blind　viper　striking　venomously　at　everything　…　even　itself！　　A
destroyer　who　tore　down　but　who　knew　not　how　or　what　to　build。　　Kitty
knew　that　lower　New　York　was　seething　with　this　species　of　terrorism
　…　thousands　of　noisome　European　rats　trying　to　burrow　into　the
granary　of　democracy。　　But　she　had　no　particular　fear　of　the　result。
The　reacting　chemicals　of　American　humour　and　common　sense　would
neutralize　that　virus。　　Supposing　a　ripple　from　this　indecent　eddy
had　touched　her　feet？　　The　torch　of　liberty　in　the　hands　of　Anarch！

Johnny　Two…Hawks。　　Somehow　…　even　if　she　never　saw　him　again　…　she
knew　she　would　always　remember　him　by　that　name。　　Phases　of　the
encounter　began　to　return。　　Fine　hands；　perhaps　he　painted　or　played。
The　oblong　head　of　well…balanced　mentality。　　A　pleasant　voice。
Breeding。　　To　be　sure；　he　had　laughed　at　that　fan　popping　out。
Anybody　would　have　laughed。　　Never　had　she　felt　so　idiotic。　　He　had
gravely　expressed　the　hope　that　they　might　never　meet　again　because
his　life　was　in　danger。　　What　danger？　　Conceivably　the　enmity　of　a
society　…　internationalism。　　The　word　having　found　lodgment　in　her
thoughts　took　r