XXIII
WHAT KENYON HEARD AND SAW
“The end, when it comes, comes quickly.”
—An Adage of Hong Yo.
FOR a moment there was silence, then, as Kenyon watched, he saw long, shuddering spasms of laughter shake the emaciated frame of Hong Yo, while one yellow claw was weakly raised, pointing in ghoulish mirth at Forrester.
Kenyon felt his skin prickle.
“What a hideous beast!” he muttered, his face showing his repugnance. “If it were possible to see his soul, I wonder what it would look like?”
“You were longing for our society, were you?” spoke Hong Yo, in his slow, careful English. “And we had all but given you up.”
He was racked by a fit of coughing; Farbush led him to a chair, and when the paroxysm had subsided, he was breathless and almost without life.
“Will you sit down?” Forrester said to Farbush.
The latter did so, silently. He sat far back in the chair, drumming with noiseless fingers upon its arms, his hard eyes full of fury, his thin, cruel mouth shut in a straight line.
“Our friend Hong is to be the speaker, however,” concluded Kenyon, from his vantage behind the portières. “That seems to be understood between them.”
After a few moments the Chinaman had recovered somewhat, but when he spoke it was in a faint, gasping wheeze.
“That was a pretty ruse—that of the yacht.”
Forrester stared at the speaker in surprise.
“The yacht?” said he inquiringly.
A ghastly grin crossed Hong Yo’s face; he waved a hand in a feeble gesture of impatience.
“We met her before she had passed North Brother Island. We expected to find you on board—and these,” pointing to the securities upon the table.
Forrester laughed.
“Is it possible that you went in chase of the Wizard? Why, that little matter was laid down for the astute Mr. Kenyon’s private use.”
The watcher saw Farbush start.
“Kenyon!” exclaimed the man.
“Why, to be sure. I was confident that, with his infernal cleverness, he’d think of the yacht when he found that Anna had gotten the securities.”
“Ah! So you admit the cracking of the safe now?” Farbush leaned toward the younger man, and his thin lips curled back from his teeth. “You denied it strongly enough upon the night that it was done.”
“I still deny it,” answered Forrester. He seated himself beside the table and began gathering up the securities. “In fact I don’t mind admitting that such a neat and effective job is entirely beyond me.”
Hong Yo and Farbush exchanged glances.
“The securities were locked in the safe,” said Hong Yo. “And you admit that Anna took them; then she—or you—must have forced the safe.”
“Your conclusion is natural enough,” replied Forrester, “but is scarcely correct. Anna did get the securities, as I said, but not from your safe,” to Farbush.
“No,” said the girl, “from Dallas Gilbert.”
The two men started, but said nothing; Forrester smiled.
“You will be astonished to hear, I feel sure, that Dallas and Kenyon have established a sort of co-partnership in this matter of ours. He was on the premises upon the night the safe was opened; in fact, I’m quite convinced that it was he that did the opening.”
There was a moment’s silence; then Hong Yo said:
“Yesterday you would have surprised us with this; but not now. We were quite convinced, last night, that Kenyon, like yourself, is playing a game of his own.”
“And we may astonish you some,” spoke Farbush, “by telling you that not only is he leagued with Dallas Gilbert, but with young Philip Austin, as well.”
Forrester stared; Anna clasped her hands, nervously.
“I saw Austin with Kenyon last night,” said Farbush, “as plainly as I see you now.”
Both Forrester and Anna were visibly amazed; but not any more than was Kenyon himself.
“That’s a point that I missed, somehow,” he muttered. “Either that, or it’s some sort of a blind to fool Forrester.”
“But all this has no real connection with our visit,” said Hong Yo, hollowly. “The Stalker said that you had a matter of importance to settle with us.”
“I have,” replied Forrester. He placed his hand upon the packet of securities. “It is about these.”
Hong Yo coughed. The almost fleshless hand trembled as he lifted it to his lips; then he said:
“I imagined that. But go on.”
“I want to withdraw from the arrangement that we made. I am not fitted to carry it out. As you are aware, I cannot go far enough. This booty is to be my share; the remainder I leave for you and Farbush.”
“Oh!”
The burning little eyes shone through the puckered, slanting lids; the bloodless lips smiled. It was like the horrid mirth of a demon in a mediæval poem.
“Now that our plans seem apt to go astray,” mocked he, “you have thought it well to feather your own nest.”
“I offered all along to do this very thing,” cried Forrester. “I knew when murder was seriously entertained, that I must withdraw.”
Hong Yo arose. His step was wavering and strengthless; there seemed to be only a flutter of life in his shrunken frame; but, to the watching Kenyon, his purpose was as deadly as the look in his eyes.
“You persist in this?” asked he, slowly.
“I do,” said Forrester, quietly.
Farbush sat with one leg crossed over the other; his face had suddenly grown expressionless, his body seemed tensely flexed.
“He expects a climax, I fancy,” thought Kenyon.
“Did it never occur to you,” gasped Hong Yo, steadying himself by laying his left hand upon the back of a chair, “that we might not be willing to fall in with your views.”
Forrester smiled, confidently. The fresh, boyish candor which had so struck Kenyon, at first sight of him, was perfect.
“Oh, I think you will,” said he. “I don’t see how you can very well refuse.”
“And why?”
Hong Yo had drawn nearer, and Kenyon noted the yellow claw once more stealing toward the breast of his blouse. But Forrester did not give way; he only smiled, quietly.
“You see,” he answered, “you are hardly in a position to refuse me. I have dropped my connection with your plot for good and all. With these securities I disappear never to be heard of again. Without them, I remain in New York to tell what I know.”
As the last word left his lips, the knife of the Chinaman flashed in the lamp-light. Anna screamed; but for a moment Forrester retained his calmness.
“He expects help,” was the thought that flashed through Kenyon’s mind.
But the help for some reason did not come; and then the confidence suddenly died, leaving the young giant white and apparently paralyzed with fear. Hong Yo was taking the step that would bring him within striking distance; and like a fascinated thing Forrester awaited the blow. Again Anna screamed; and now she threw herself upon Forrester’s breast. The knife was raised and would have fallen, but there came a sharp, answering cry, the sound of swift-moving feet, and two strong white hands clutched the arm of Hong Yo.
“Dallas!” cried Kenyon in amazement; and with the name upon his lips, he whipped out his long revolver, thrust aside the portières, and stepped into the room.
Farbush had leaped to his feet, but with what intention will never be known; for at sight of Kenyon and the murderous Colt he shrank back. Dallas uttered a little cry of joy; she sprang to meet Kenyon with outstretched hands.
“You!” she exclaimed.
“To be sure,” said he. “I am still trying to furnish proof of my rectitude.”
He pressed her hand as he spoke, and his brown eyes twinkled humorously; but, at the same time, they never left Hong Yo and Farbush, and the black muzzle of his huge weapon was not once lowered.
Then the adventurer swiftly stepped to the table and laid a hand upon the packet of securities.
“I think,” said he, coolly, “that I will take charge of these, just now.”
He slid them into his overcoat pocket, and then glanced sharply around as he caught a queer sound from Hong Yo. The Chinaman was swaying weakly; his hands vaguely clutched at the empty air, and his pale lips were muttering in his own language. Then suddenly he pitched forward and lay still. Farbush crept forward, cowed, to look at him.
“He’s dead,” said he.
And just then, through the doorway, came Philip Austin, Garry Webster, and the bandaged youth from Saginaw.
“We heard the screams,” said Webster, “and thought you might need us.” Then seeing the stark form of Hong Yo, he exclaimed: “Hello! What’s this?”
“It looks quite a bit like the end to me,” replied Kenyon.