LACEY was pacing up and down the room nervously, chewing a cigar to shreds. He stopped suddenly before Marsh’s chair, exclaimed irritably: “Stanton was right. From what this Doctor Blood says in the letter, Stanton must have paid up already. It’s all right for you, Marsh. You’re used to this sort of thing; and you haven’t got a family to worry about either. But Larkin and I don’t go in for exploring and big game hunting. All we want is to be left alone. And it’s worth twenty-five thousand to each of us not to have this terrible threat hanging over our heads!”
Larkin, the newspaper proprietor, was standing with his back to the others, staring out of the window into the night. He said over his shoulder in a dull voice: “I’m with Lacey. This madman who signs himself Doctor Blood has shown that he can carry out his threats. Sturgis and Marsh can be stubborn if they want, but the way I look at it, twenty-five thousand is little enough to pay when you think of what has happened to the others.” He glanced at his wrist watch. “It’s five minutes of twelve. All five of us may be dead, with our throats torn open at one minute after midnight. I’m for calling Stanton right now—”
Mayor Sturgis interrupted him. “Just a minute, Larkin. There’s no sense in talking this way. We’re all pretty well on edge.” The mayor’s face was indeed gray with worry. He showed the effects of the terrible strain upon him. For, in addition to being one of those upon Doctor Blood’s list, he was also burdened with the responsibility of handling the entire situation. There were fine beads of sweat under his eyes.
He ran a hand wearily across his face as he went on: “I feel much the same as you do, Larkin, but I’m holding out as best I can. We dare not give in to this man the way Stanton has. Don’t you understand that it would only mean the beginning of a reign of terror throughout the country? We, here, have been unfortunate enough to be chosen by Doctor Blood; and it becomes our duty to fight him in the best way we can.
“We are not going to pay — and we are going to do our best to make sure that we live through the day. If we are alive by midnight tomorrow, it will mean that Doctor Blood is not as infallible as he claims to be. It will break up his entire plan, will give the rest of the men on that list of three hundred and sixty-five the courage to refuse to pay, too.” His voice grew eager, urgent. “Don’t you see? We’ve got to carry on!”
Lacey seemed to be somewhat impressed by the mayor’s impassioned plea. He stopped his nervous pacing, said: “Well—”
Norman Marsh sprang from his chair, clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, Lacey, snap out of it! Foster has planned to protect the five of us starting at midnight. He practically guarantees that we’ll be safe.”
Larkin swung away from the window, demanded eagerly: “What kind of plan?”
“Sturgis will tell you about it,” said Marsh.
The mayor explained. “Gentlemen, Commissioner Foster is making sure that Doctor Blood cannot get to us tonight. We are going to place ourselves beyond his reach!”
“What will we do?” Lacey asked sarcastically. “Go up in a balloon and stay up in the stratosphere all night and all day?”
The quip provoked no answering smile from the assembled men.
Mayor Sturgis shook his head. “I am going to do better than that. We are all going to put ourselves — in jail!”
Larkin crossed the room from the window, his eyes burning feverishly. “In jail!” he repeated after the mayor. “Are you crazy?”
“X” had been silent all this time, studying each of the men in turn. He was especially interested in Lacey and Larkin. They had both been so anxious to pay up, to induce the others to pay, but suddenly, upon learning that there was a plan in the wind, they were eager to discover what it was. Neither of them was the type of man which the Agent pictured Doctor Blood to be. But both were clever, shrewd business men, and had the brains. It would be an ingenious stroke for the man who masked himself under the name of Doctor Blood to have placed himself upon the very list of victims whom he had named.
“X’s” thoughts were interrupted by the mayor, who was explaining the plan. “Commissioner Foster has arranged for an escort of policemen to accompany us. We will stay in jail all night and all day tomorrow until midnight, and there will be a heavy guard placed inside and outside. Not a soul will be admitted under any pretext. If Doctor Blood can get through that guard, he will have to be good!”
Lacey seemed to be wavering. The idea appealed to him. “Of course,” he said reflectively, “Doctor Blood got Patterson right in police headquarters. He might even be able to get at us in jail.”
“I’m willing to take that chance,” Marsh said quietly. “The only way he got Patterson was under a pretext, by sending some one to pose as Secret Agent ‘X.’ While we are in jail, no one will be admitted under any pretext.”
Mayor Sturgis turned to “X.” “What do you say, Randall. Will you go with us?”
“X” nodded. If these men all stuck together tonight, he wanted to be near them. Undoubtedly Doctor Blood would make an attempt upon their lives. Well, the Agent would be right there when the attempt was made. He said: “I’m in favor of it, Sturgis.”
“X’s” words seemed to carry weight with the others. Lacey capitulated, and set to work to convince Larkin that he ought to throw in with them.
Finally Larkin exclaimed: “All right! I’ll go with you — and I hope it works. God, I hope it works!”
“When do we go?” “X” asked.
“At once,” the mayor announced. “It is two minutes of twelve — the police escort will be below now.”
Lacey poured them each a drink of cognac, and then they filed out of the apartment, went down in the self-service elevator. On the way down, Lacey whispered to the Agent: “I sent the servants off for the night when this meeting was called. No one knows about it.”
“X” made no comment. He could have told Lacey that the meeting was not as secret as he thought. Bates had learned of it. And it was highly possible that Doctor Blood also knew about it.
The chimes of a near-by church were just beginning to toll the hour of midnight when the five men, with Mayor Sturgis in the lead, crossed the lobby and went out into the biting cold of the February night.
Chapter XIV
THE mayor exclaimed: “Aha — everything is on schedule!” Before the curb stood a police van. A uniformed police sergeant and four blue-coats, all with service revolvers in their hands, stood beside the van. They were tense, watchful, their eyes constantly shifting to the dark reaches of Central Park across the street.
Norman Marsh, who was walking beside “X,” whispered: “Those officers are as nervous as we are. I’m beginning to have a healthy respect for this Doctor Blood of ours.”
“X” smiled. “Who wouldn’t have a healthy respect for him. He’s in a fair way to terrorizing the entire country.”
The uniformed sergeant saluted the mayor, reported: “Sergeant Mace, sir, Morrisville Precinct.” He grinned sheepishly. “I’ve got orders from the commissioner to place you and these other gentlemen under arrest — if you don’t mind, sir.”
“Not at all, not at all,” the mayor said. He had almost regained his usual joviality at the thought of safety. “I dare say we’re the most willing prisoners you’ve ever had!”
Sergeant Mace saluted, motioned to one of the bluecoats who opened the rear door of the van. Marsh went in first, then Larkin, then “X,” then Lacey. Sturgis followed them.