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<h2 id="c16">CHAPTER XVI. IDA IN TROUBLE.</h2> When Patsy set out to be present at the departure for Chicago of his two new acquaintances, Crummie and Graff, Nick and Chick accompanied him to the station, in order that they might become familiar with the appearance of Masson. Under Edith’s recital of the tale told her by Blanche Constant of Masson’s persecutions, the latter person had assumed a new importance in Nick’s eye. Arriving at the station, Patsy quickly espied the two East Side toughs. They were roaming about the large room, evidently looking for some one, and not finding him. “It begins to look,” said Patsy, “as if Masson had thrown ’em down.” “Yet,” said Nick, “when you heard him talking to them, he seemed to be most anxious to have them get out of town, didn’t he?” “Yes,” replied Patsy. “It was his idea. He proposed it to them.” “There may have been a new turn in the game,” said Nick. He had hardly said this when a man stepped out from a group of persons and walked over to the two, speaking to them. <div class="pb" id="Page_155">155</div> Surprise was plainly shown on the faces of the two toughs when they were addressed, but the expression quickly changed to one of recognition. This man was about the height of Chick, but he was smooth-shaven. The three detectives, moving up more closely, saw this smooth-shaven stranger hand a small envelope to one of the two. Then he took from his pocket two small packages, handing one to each. Patsy, who had edged away, so that he could get a clear view of the stranger’s face, came back to Nick, saying: “Great Scott! The fellow has given himself a clean shave.” “Shaved off his whiskers and mustache?” asked Nick. “Sure,” said Patsy. Nick made no reply, but Chick said: “If the fellow looked no better before than he does after shaving, I pity him.” “He looks a lot worse,” said Patsy. Chick laughed, and Nick remarked: “He is a foolish man.” The doors leading to the train shed were now thrown open, and the gatemen began to call the train. The two toughs shook hands with Masson and passed through the gate, on their way to the train they were to take. Masson turned to go to the exit to the street, and in doing so passed close to the three detectives, apparently 156 without recognizing them. If he did, he made no sign of it. He had gone but a few steps beyond this little group of detectives when he encountered a party of travelers, consisting of two ladies and two gentlemen. To this party he lifted his hat. All of the four looked with some surprise upon him, and then one of the gentlemen broke into a laugh, saying: “Why, you have made an astonishing change in your appearance, Masson.” “Yes,” replied Masson, fully at ease. “And not for the better, I imagine.” To this remark no one made reply, but the other gentleman said, lightly: “It was a reckless thing to do—making such a complete change.” “It was forced on me,” said Masson. “A fellow that looks like me has been going about town representing himself to be me, and causing me a good deal of trouble. The only way in which I could stop him was to destroy the resemblance.” “Perhaps he will shave, too,” said one of the ladies. “But he will not restore the resemblance,” replied Masson. “It was the whiskers that did the trick.” Their conversation was changed with this, and Nick said to his companion: “Was that said by Masson for our benefit, think you?” “It sounded like a throw off,” said Chick. The three detectives passed out of the building, and 157 stood on the sidewalk in front of the main doors, waiting for Masson to make his appearance. “You must follow Masson when he shows up, Patsy,” said Nick. Patsy moved away, to be prepared for this duty, and Chick said: “If Masson’s words were not intended for us, then they were important in showing that there is another man on the carpet who might be confused with him.” “And,” added Nick, “it would afford an explanation of the contradictions that now bother us.” At this moment Masson came through the door and walked briskly up Forty-second Street, Patsy following. Nick made a signal to Chick, and started after. Thus Masson was followed to Fifth Avenue, when he turned to the south, going down that avenue, to all appearance unconscious that he was followed. At Thirty-seventh Street Nick stopped, Chick halting with him. “I have followed as far as I want,” said Nick. “I wanted to see whether he walked with a hitch or jerk of his shoulders.” “Did you notice it?” asked Chick. “No,” said Nick. “I noticed nothing in the man’s habits of movement that indicated it.” The two now turned to the west, leaving Patsy to continue his shadow of Masson alone. This shadow led to a club some distance down Fifth 158 Avenue, in front of which stood two men, one of whom respectfully saluted Masson as he came up. Masson walked directly to the man, and said, abruptly: “There will be nothing doing, Denton, until to-morrow night. Then I want steam up and everything ready for a three or four weeks’ cruise. I want the launch to be at the old pier as early as eight o’clock, although I may not be there to meet it until ten. “Now, Denton, I want no mistakes. The same men manning the launch that we have had before. I want the crew off the deck when I go aboard. You alone are to have the watch from nine to twelve. “I shall be here at the club until midnight. After that I shall be at home until to-morrow. You can reach me any time to-morrow here at the club if you have need to.” Masson was about to go into the clubhouse, and the two men to whom he was talking had moved off a short distance, when a third man came running up, saying: “There is a mistake, Mr. Masson. The funeral does not take place to-morrow, but the day after.” “Are you sure,” asked Masson. “Sure. I got it from the undertaker in charge.” Masson hurriedly called the two men back, and said to them: “Wait! There may be a change of orders.” Turning to the third man who had come up, he asked: “What are the arrangements?” “The funeral is at eleven, and the burial will be at Greenwood as soon thereafter as it can take place.” <div class="pb" id="Page_159">159</div> “Hum!” exclaimed Masson, thoughtfully. “Day after to-morrow then. That changes all arrangements.” He walked off to the two men who had come back and were patiently waiting for him to speak. To them he said: “The orders I gave you are all off. Come to me to-morrow here for further orders. In the meantime, you can continue preparations for a long cruise. That’s all for the present.” The two men went away, and Masson, taking the other by the arm, led him into the house. Patsy had overheard the whole of this conversation by slipping out into the middle of the street, behind the four persons and climbing into a cab standing empty before the door. When all had disappeared, he crawled out again and crossed to the other side of the street. “Now, what does all that mean?” said Patsy to himself. “The first two men were from his yacht. That’s clear. And Masson is going on a long cruise. That’s clear, too. But who was the other man, and what’s that about a funeral?” He stood thinking a little while, and then suddenly exclaimed: “Gee! what if it’s the funeral of that Miss Romney? Well, I’ll shadow him for a while if he comes out, for Masson’s going to stay in the club.” Shortly after the man who had entered with Masson came out, and leisurely walked off into the direction of 160 Broadway, closely followed by Patsy. It soon became apparent that he had no particular business on hand, nor any special place to go to, but was lounging from saloon to saloon. “It’s eating up time for nothing following this chap,” said Patsy, to himself. “I’ll give him the drop, and start after the chief to find him.” Acting upon this thought, Patsy hurried to his chief’s residence, to find that Nick had just come in with Chick. He reported the conversation between Masson and the three men that he had overheard, to the great interest of the two elder detectives. When he was through, Nick said: “Masson has shipped off to Chicago the two men who were his instruments in the dog poisoning affair. Now he is going away for a long cruise himself.” “But, chief,” said Chick, eagerly; “how about that funeral? His going away seems to be tied up with that.” “I was coming to that,” said Nick, “and it is the most important thing. The undertaker, having been given full charge, had appointed to-morrow as the day of the funeral, but Mrs. Constant, having learned this, postponed the funeral another day, on the ground that it seemed like hurrying Ethel into the tomb to have the funeral so soon. “Now compare this fact with what Patsy overheard between Masson and that third man who came up, and we can conclude that the funeral Masson is interested in is that of Ethel Romney. <div class="pb" id="Page_161">161</div> “It appears, then, that Masson is determined to begin his cruise on the day of that funeral. Why?” “It is very strange,” said Chick, “and I take it we will have to find that out. It can’t be, chief, that it is to be explained on the simple ground that Masson wishes to attend that funeral?” “Dismiss that idea, Chick,” said Nick. “Masson will not attend in any event. No, we must look deeper than that for an explanation.” The three were silent a moment, each busy with his own thoughts, when Nick said: “This calls for action. We may be forced to show our hands before we are quite ready.” “We can hardly let Masson go out of sight,” said Chick. “And yet,” said Nick, “we have not enough basis on which to detain him. We have got to meet this another way. “The name of his yacht is the Derelict. When he is not aboard, it lies in the East River, off Twenty-third Street. Patsy, there is some work for you to do.” The famous detective got up from his chair, and began pacing up and down the apartment, keeping it up for a long time. When he stopped he dropped again into his chair, and said: “I am satisfied that this move of Masson’s bears some relation to the case we have in hand. What, I am not able to figure out. But we must get ‘onto’ it, to use 162 Patsy’s words, and Patsy, you must be the one to get ‘onto’ it.” “All right, chief,” said Patsy. “But you must tell me how.” “Didn’t you tell me once that some summers ago you were on a yacht as a steward for a little while?” “Yes.” “Well, I think you will have to try and hire out as a steward on the Derelict.” Patsy laughed, and replied: “Or as an able seaman?” “Any way, so long as you get aboard,” said Nick. “That’s the most important thing we have to do at present. And you haven’t much time to do it in, either.” “And it isn’t an easy thing to do,” said Patsy; “but I’ll start the ball rolling to-night.” The little clock on the mantel of the room struck the hour of ten, and Chick said: “If you are going to start the ball to-night, you’ll have to start it very soon, for it’s ten o’clock now.” At that moment the servant entered the room with a telegram, which she handed to Chick. Tearing off the envelope and opening the folded paper within, Chick read aloud: “‘Am in trouble.’” Chick hastily glanced at the top of the dispatch, and exclaimed: “Philadelphia! The deuce! It’s from Ida.” <div class="pb" id="Page_163">163</div> “How do you know?” asked Patsy. “Is it signed by her?” “There’s no signature,” said Chick. “But I know it’s from her.” Nick was already on his feet, and he said: “And she wants help or she never would have sent the message. Chick, you and I start for Philadelphia now. We have just got time to catch the next train that leaves for that city.” “Do I go, too?” asked Patsy. “No,” said Nick. “We leave you in charge of the case. Get on to that yacht if you can. I fancy that that’s where the work must be done. We can’t tell how long Chick and I will be away. But, if anything important turns up, wire me to the old place in Philadelphia. “Now, Chick, we must be off.” Nick and Chick hurried away, and Patsy went off to start his own difficult work. <div class="pb" id="Page_164">164</div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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