 | After Death — What |  |
5. Part V
Six months later Rookers slapped Tod Ogilvie on the shoulder.
"That dark-red car came in from the works this morning, Tod," he said. "I know a man in Trenton who wants to buy a car, and maybe he'll stand for this one. You can hold out for your price. It's a big, flashy-looking thing, and that's his style."
"I'll try my luck," said Tod.
"And oh, by the way, Tod," said Rookers carelessly, "steer clear of the main streets — just my advice. Of course, I'm all right, and you're all right, and this
Tod looked Rookers in the eye. Tod understood. He had understood for some time now, but he had asked no questions. That wasn't his business. He had nothing to do with the history of a car. He was selling made-over cars — that's all — at fair prices.
Easy money! What were the odds?
He wheeled into the side street where he lived with his sister. It was after dark, of course. He wanted to tell her that he was off again for a two-days' trip. Halfway down the block he saw her come out of the apartment-house — with a man. He stopped his car, descended, and stole forward on foot.
The man was Blandy. Blandy and Irene entered a taxi and drove off. Tod heard their destination — Rector's.
There was something about Blandy's manner that Tod didn't like — something too familiar in the way he handed the girl down the steps of the house and into the cab. He knew men of Blandy's type; and he knew Irene — the luxurious, the self-willed, the impulsive — Irene, who always wanted something different — who clamored for excitement.
He followed them to Rector's. When they left, he was ready for them. The night air was keen. He wore a long coat, and the collar was turned up. His huge racing-goggles covered his face.
He solicited their trade. Blandy was about to refuse when the car and its size and general appearance caught his eye. He started, and glanced keenly at the closely muffled figure of the driver.
He helped Irene into the machine.
"The Crooked Crag Inn, New Rochelle," he said.
Tod threw in the clutch and tore across country with the speed of a projectile. it was a magnificent machine. The Trenton man was sure to get a bargain when he bought it. But even the powerful car could not keep pace with Tod's thoughts, or with the swift vengeance that he planned.
At length he drew up at the hostelry — a low, gabled inn, well hidden from the road by shrubbery. Blandy and his sister entered its portals, side by side. Tod followed them. He had not yet been paid. He wondered at this, for he had expected Blandy to dismiss him at once.
Blandy ushered Irene into a cosy little waiting-room, where a fire was burning.
"My dear," he exclaimed quite audibly, "excuse me for just one moment, if you please."
As he withdrew Tod caught him by the arm — a bit roughly.
"Mr. Blandy," he choked, "I'd like to see you — outside — for a moment!"
"With pleasure, driver," returned Blandy, holding Tod's arm in his grasp. "I hope you didn't think that I'd forgotten you."
Tod drew him in front of the office window, where the light shone out to the veranda. He tore off his goggles, threw back his coat-collar, and stood bareheaded before Blandy.
"I don't think," said Tod, his anger rising, "that you'll soon forget me!"
Blandy started as if shot.
"Good Lord!" he cried. " You?"
"Ah," returned Tod, "you hardly expected to see me!"
"Right!" said Blandy. "I didn't think you'd got that far."
"Oh," returned Tod, "I'm no detective. I didn't intend to track you. It happened quite by accident, and by good luck, to-night — just in the nick of time!"
Blandy nodded.
"Just in the nick of time," he returned.
He caught Tod by the shoulders and marched him to the near-by car. He threw open the door, entered, and switched on the lights.
"Ogilvie," he said, "look here! There are some things that you fellows know about cars and some you don't. Now watch!"
Tod, his head and body thrust well within the car, looked on. Blandy pushed a hidden button, and a little pocket slid out into view. From it Blandy took a photograph and exhibited it to Tod.
Tod started back.
"Irene!" he cried.
There was deep silence for a moment. Finally Blandy nodded.
"Now, Ogilvie," he said, "you can take your choice. You can go back to New York safe and sound — and free; or you can go in and confront your sister, and have me telephone the bulls that I've rounded up the fellow who's selling stolen cars. It's up to you — not me!"
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