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Page 98
"Those queers in the safe."
"Then the authorities got them?"
"Yes, and they've sent down some New York detectives, who are watching
everybody."
"Bah! Styles must be getting nervous."
"He told me to tell you something more. They found something else.
It's about the poison powder that was used. You made some kind of a
mistake--"
John Watkins leaped to his feet and turned pale.
"I made a mistake?" he cried. "How? For Heaven's sake, man, tell me
all!" He went to a cupboard, got out some brandy and drank a stiff
portion.
"That is what Styles wants to find out. He thinks you put out some
clews that point to him. He says if you did he will blow you sky-high.
He wants the truth from you, and he wants it right away."
"Clews? Against him? He is crazy. I never put out a single clew
against him. Why should I? Wasn't it arranged that we should fix it
against the girl, and didn't I even go to the trouble to spy on
Langmore and get the combination of the safe--although it didn't do any
good. And then after the job was done, didn't I--" The secret
service man came to an abrupt stop, as if fearing he had said too much.
"Look here, did he tell you all this, or is this some game?"
"Hey!" exclaimed Adam Adams, pretending to be amazed. "Did he tell me.
See here, I don't care if you are the boss, I am not going to run the
risk of being sent up for twenty years for you. I came to help Styles
out, that's all. I had the devil's own job getting out of Sidham
without being followed. To-morrow I am going to take my money and move
West. You won't trust a fellow, and yet you expect--"
"Never mind, Pink, don't get on your ear so quick--"
"Ain't I got a right to get on my ear? You go and poison two people
and then--"
"Who said I did the poisoning?" John Watkins was plainly agitated.
"Didn't Styles tell all of us? He wasn't going to have those clews
pointing to him. He says you bungled."
"He is a calf!" roared John Watkins. "Where is the nerve he used to
have? So he told all of you that I did the job, eh? Well, I'll square
things with him for that."
"He wouldn't care if you hadn't made some sort of a botch--"
"I? A botch? Say, don't you believe what he tells you, because it
isn't true!"
"Well, he says--"
"I don't care what he says. I didn't do the job, and I am not going to
let him shift the responsibility on my shoulders. He's a fool. Don't
everybody think the girl is guilty, and if they clear her isn't there
another string to the bow?"
"You mean Tom Ostrello?"
"That's it. So he told you about that, too," came from the secret
service man bitterly. "Well, he isn't the man I thought he was. I
suppose he has gone and blabbed right and left."
"Only to the band. We knew something was on the carpet and we cornered
him and then he had to speak. Why, one of the New York detectives
found our place under the old mill, and we had to do him, to keep the
thing a secret."
"You got him out of the way?"
"Yes."
"Did Styles do that job?"
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