Back Aa

Mansion of Mystery

Close

<h2 id="id01362" style="margin-top: 4em">CHAPTER XVII</h2> <h5 id="id01363">AN INTERESTING CONVERSATION</h5> Adam Adams had watched the appearance and disappearance of the two men with interest. He remembered that Matlock Styles, the man who owed the Langmore estate $16,000 on three mortgages, was an Englishman, with mutton-chop whiskers. Evidently the man who had arrived with the secret service employee was the same individual. This being so, the question at once arose, what had brought the pair together? Matlock Styles lived in an old colonial mansion, so Raymond Case had said, a mile and a half from the Langmore estate. Did his coming to Bryport have anything to do with the tragedy or with the counterfeits? Going close to the house once more, he heard the two men enter the parlor and heard Watkins order supper. Then followed a conversation in such a low tone that he could only catch an occasional word. He heard something about mortgages and then a safe was mentioned, but he could not catch the direct connection. Evidently though, they were discussing the Langmore affair. In a short while supper was served and the two men passed to the dining hall. Here, while the girls were near, they spoke of matters in general. The meal finished, John Watkins invited his visitor up to his den on the second floor. As said before, the house was on a corner, and by the lighting up of a room above, Adam Adams located the den, just behind the main front corner room, and close to a tree, which grew along the side street. Looking around, the detective made certain that nobody was observing him, and then began to climb the tree with the agility of a schoolboy. One heavy branch ran out close to the building, and standing on this brought him to within three feet of the window, which was screened and open from the bottom to admit the air. The curtain was down to within three inches of the window sill, thus affording the detective a chance to peep into the apartment without running much risk of being discovered. "Then you say the mortgages have not been paid?" came from John Watkins. "No, blast the luck!" growled Matlock Styles. "I didn't think he wanted the cash so I let them run on." "Have you any idea how the estate is to be divided?" "I understand the girl gets half. The wife's half will go to her two sons now." "That is lucky for them. I reckon Dick Ostrello can use all the money he can lay hands on. He's a wild one, if ever there was one." "Don't Tom spend his money?" "Not lately. I understand he is saving up to marry some girl in New York." "Humph." There was a pause, during which time both men lit cigars. "How is the bloody business going?" asked Matlock Styles presently. "Oh, I manage to earn my salary," answered the secret service man, with a dry laugh. "I don't get promoted though." "You ought to try to unearth some big mystery. That would get your name in the papers." "I don't want my name in the papers. I am doing well enough. Ain't I on the track of those counterfeits? What more do you want?" "Yes, but you haven't got them yet, blast the luck! And you say you had the safe open?" "I did." "Then why didn't you look inside? I should have done so." "I thought I'd get a better chance later on. But when I went back hang me if I could work the combination again." "Have the safe makers opened the safe yet?" "I think so, but if the counterfeits were found the local authorities haven't said a word. Somebody must be laying low." There was another pause, and then Matlock Styles brought some papers from his pocket. "You might glance over these bloody things while you have time," he observed. "Perhaps they'll give you a clue to work on. You see, I believe in helping a detective all I can," and he chuckled broadly. As Adam Adams could see, the documents were of legal aspect and with them were several letters. "Then the deal goes through," said John Watkins. "Doesn't that look like it?" "And the patent is yours?" "Yes." "I wonder what Barry Langmore would say to this, if he was alive?" "He wouldn't like it at all." "Do you think you can make any money out of the patent?" "Money? I hope to make a fortune out of it." "Say, Styles, you're a lucky dog and always were." "It's because I watch my bloomin' chances," answered the Englishman. "By the way, were you at the inquest?" "Sure." "I didn't see you." "No, but you spoke to me." "I did? You're mistaken." "Don't you remember the farmer who asked you for a chew of terbacker?" "Was that you?" exclaimed Matlock Styles. "If it was you're improving. The first thing you know you'll be the real thing and getting a head position at Washington." "I shouldn't mind that," answered John Watkins. "Where are you going to-morrow?" "To New York—to nose around." "Want to locate the counterfeits?" "I want to see if they have been reported. I've got a certain idea about them, but I am not sure if I am right." "What's the idea?" "That Langmore girl has engaged a detective named Adam Adams to clear her, if he can. He was dodging around the house when I was there, and somehow it's got into my head that he knows about the counterfeits." "Does he belong to the secret service?" "No, he's a private detective. I don't know much about him, but they say he's a pretty good one," continued John Watkins. "You think he opened the safe?" "I'm thinking that perhaps he was at the safe after I opened it. The safe is of a make in which the combination can be changed with ease. He could have looked into it and then have changed the numbers. I certainly didn't forget the old combination—it was so easy, four on forty, three on thirty and two on twenty—but that wouldn't open it when I went back." "Can't you get in with him and find out what's what?" suggested Matlock Styles. "You can tell him that you are working up this case of the counterfeits." "I may do that. The trouble is, these private detectives don't like to go in with an outsider—they are too much afraid of losing the credit for what they are trying to do." "Is anybody else on the case?" "Not that I know of. If there was—" At that moment the door bell of the house rang and soon one of the girls came upstairs. "Mr. Martin is below," said she to John Watkins. "Is that so? Tell him I will see him in a minute." The secret service man turned to the Englishman. "He is a real estate man who is going to sell this house for me. I'd forgotten that I had an appointment with him." "Never mind, give me that money you promised and I'll be going," answered Matlock Styles. "I've got a lot of things to attend to in the next few days." "I'll give it to you in the library. The money is in the safe," was the answer, and then both of the men left the room. Adam Adams descended to the ground and walked slowly to the front of the house. In a few minutes he saw the Englishman step out on the front piazza followed by the secret service man. "Where are you going now?" asked the latter. "Home and to bed," was the reply. "Goodnight. Will I see you to-morrow?" "Either to-morrow or the day after. I want to settle up this real estate deal. I promised my wife I'd do it." The Englishman came away from the house and hurried along the street to where the trolley car ran. He boarded a car moving towards the depot and Adam Adams did the same. At the depot Matlock Styles took a train for home. Adam Adams made his way to a hotel in a thoughtful mood. The conversation he had overheard interested him greatly. He decided to learn more concerning the pair, and especially Matlock Styles, without unnecessary delay. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2