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SHH HE
THE DOUBLE
DEALER
By VARICK VANARDY.
Author of “Missing—$81,500.”
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sey Co.
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Ad 88
CHAPTER IIL.
That Same Night at Crewe’s.
Crewe stood with both arms out-
stretched, his strong but delicate
hands gripping the inner edge of the
bar of his famous place in South
Fifth avenue. ' : ;
It was his customary attitude when
he was not wiping glasses or other-
wise engaged.
The ugly, almost hideous “blemish
on one side of his face, which shaded
trom red to a hue that was nearly
purple, seemed mowe pronounced than
ever, although if he turned his head
so that it did not show, and one could
pee only the smooth side of his face,
one . would unhesitatingly have pros.
nounced him a handsome man.
There were ossibly a score of
®regulars”’ Ey the tables, which
were many, for the saloon was both
wide and deep; but Crewe’s irusted
sssistant, Christy, was attending to
their ‘wants, so that he was himself
unoccupied. »
The hands of the clock above ihe
back bar pointed at five minutes to
midnight.
The front door opened and, a tall,
darkman of the elder Hermann type
came swiftly toward the bar where
Crewe was standing.
He moved with a peculiar grace and
esse that suggested both Iithness
and great reserve strength, and his
black eyes under their heavy brows
were remarkably soft in their expres-
sion. Women would have adsired
him—at a distance. .
Men would have shrugged thelr
shoulders and shook their heads if his
good looks were mentioned.
Crewe maintained his familiar atti-
tude until the newcomer was direetly
‘n front of him; then he said, still
without moving from his position:
“How are you, Sindahr? What are
vou going to have?” But, as if he
had known before he asked the ques-
tion, he reached into one of the re-
ceptacles behind him and brought
forth a bottle that was never calied
for save by this particular customer.
It contained some kind of an Raat.
ern cordial, which: must be nameless
here for the reason that it is unpro-
nounceable.
t. “Thank you, Mr. Crewe,” Sindahr
said in a low voice that was soft as
velvet and in perfect English, al-
though one could see that he was a
foreigner, and doubtless of Hindu
origin, notwithstanding the inky-black
mustache and imperial he wore.
“Well, were you there?” Crewe
. asked as he helped himself to a glass
of vichy. +
“Surely! Did I not say that I
would be there? I was the Italian |
Count Sucini I much resemble. I bad
no difficulty in - obtaining the invi-
tation, Mr. Crewe.”
‘Don’t ‘Mister’ me, count.” and
Crewe showed his white teeth in a
half smile. “I am just plain Crewe,
I have no other name. Did you obey
wy orders?”
“Most -assuredly.”
“You are lying, Sindahr,”
announced coolly.
And when the man in front of the
bar took a step backward away from
it and shot a gleam from his eyes that
was half hatred and half fear, the
proprietor added as coolly as before:
“You East Indians think that you are
the only wise guys on earth, but yea
will ind when you know me better
that I am gifted with something of
the occult myself. Shell out, count.”
“What do you mean by that expres=
sfon, Crewe,” the Oriental demanded,
and there was no mistaking the ha
tred in his eyes then.
“I sent you up there, Sindahr, to
watch, not to ‘lift’ I told ydu ex-
pressly that you were not to pineh a
thing, even if the opportunity offered.
You disobeyed me. Shell out!”
“l have nothing. I stole not &
thing.”
‘Count, do you want me to send
you up the river?”
“No, no, no! Not even If you
could do s0,” was the hasty but halk
uncertain reply.
“Then dig down in your jeans and
cough up that cameo broogh that yom
lifted tonight.”
8indahr's expressive eyes grew widyg
with fear. Then, without a word of
reply, he thrust one hand inside his
waistcoat and brought forth an article
wrapped in tissue-paper.
He passed it across the bar to
Crewe, who opened the wrapping
enough to see what it contaimed, then
turned and dropped it into-a drawer
behind him, which he locked.
The Oriental’s expression was me
dérous when Crewe confronted him
again; but it changed to fear once
more as he murmured:
“You are & devil — yes, 8 devil ==
enother Siva! How could’ you know
about that?”
“I knew. That is enough. Were
both of your pupils there?™
“Yes.”
“Did they get busy? Did they
Crewe
“I think not. If so, I did mot des
tect them.”
“Was anything stolen besides the
cameo?”
“I do not think so.
immediately after the supper..if there
were, things missing I did not hear of
it. I was—”
The front door opened, and, Crewe
interruiscd him sharply: :
“Here comes a man who may ques-
tion you. Be careful what you say.”
Lieutenant Muchmore strode swift-
17 to the bar. Another plain-clothes
man was with him.
“Hello, Crewe!” he said.
“Who’s your friend?”
“Good evening, Muchmore. How
are you, Bunting?’ Crewe replied
easily. “My friend is the celebrated
and justly renowned Professor Sin-
oahr, known to the public as the
‘Worker of Miracles.” ”
“And known to the police as the
slickest ‘dip’ that ever happened,”
Muchmore snapped out, whirling up-
on the Oriental savagely.
Sindahr, however, remained appar-
ently unmoved by) the statement or
the attitude of the officer.
teeth gleamed and his soft eyes shone
in a smile that might have been ap-
preciation of the compliment.
“That ‘is, unfortunately, a reputa-
tion that fell upon me because I
Taen:
heve given exhibitions of pocketpick-
ing on the stage,” he said in his vel-
v-* voice.
aveid the dips, as you call them. Yeu
have no charge against me, I know.”
‘No; I wish to Heaven I had ‘one!
want to see. I had a description of
that I knew you. He turned ‘sharply
to the man beltind the bar. “Crewe,”
he demanded,
quaintance with Moreaux; the artist,
haven’t you?”
“A slight one.”
“He has visited your place—this
place?”
“Poseibly.. I have a wretched mem- !
ory, lieutenant.”
“yr, I. am ring to speak to you
presently about something that you
‘will remember, because it happened
50 recently — not much more than an
hour ago. Just now I want to know
“who. the new pupil was that you in-
troduced to this miracle worker the
long ago, when Moreaux, the artist
visited this place.”
“Really,
gan, but Muchmore wheeled again
upon Sindahr.
“You know the occasion to which
1 refer,” he snapped out. “Tell me
the name of that man. You met him
in the strect on the Bowery less than
a week ago and talked with him. It
was near Houston street. Who was
he?” 80
“My dear lieutenant, 1 meet #0
very many people. How should I re-
member? And I have so very many
"pupils from time to time. How should
I recall them?’ Sindahr shrugged
his shoulders with a gesture so inso-
lent that it angered both the officers.
As if with one impulse, they acted.
Bunting seized his arms from be-
hind. Muchmore snapped handcuffs
on his wrists before he suspected
their intention.
Crewe looked on without moving,
having reassumed his favorite posi-
tion with arms extended; but he man-
“aged to catch Sindahr’s eye in a
meaning look. The other occupants
of the room peid no attention what-
ever.
It was none of their affair, what-
ever else it might be.
“I'll take you anyhow as a sus-
picious character, and hold you forty-
eight hours for investigation,” the
lieutenant said shortly. “I can ques-
tion you better over at headquarters.
Take him aside, Bunting. Put him in
that chair over there and come back
here.
“I am going to ask Crewe a few
questions about something that- hap-
pened tonight, and I want you to hear
.them and his answers to them. Chris-
ty, you beat it to the other end of the
room and stay there till you're want-
ed. I'll take charge of this place for
the next few minutes.”
Crewe did not move. The expres-
sion of his face did not change. But
he asked his assistant a question that
sounded odd under the circumstan-
ces.
“Christy,” he said in a tone that
was entirely calm and half-amused,
“did you feed the pigeons tonight?”
“Yes, sir,” Christy replied.
“Guying me, are you?’ Muech-
more demanded.
“Dear me, no, lieutenant,” Crewe
returned smilingly. “But I am very
fond of my pigeons.”
‘Well, I—" The electric lights in
the piace: “winked.” That is, they
went out and flashed on again instant
1y. “What the blazes was that?” the
lieutenant exclaimed. “Did you do
that, Crewe?”
“y? How could I do it? They've
been winking Hke that a good deal
lately: Just about this time, too.”
Crewe glanced ahout the roam.
What he saw seemed to satisfy him,
Christy was at the far end of it, Two
or three of the patrons were unosten-
tatiously taking their departure.
Sindahr was seated at a table net
far away with the irons still on his
wrists. Bunting: had returned to the
bar beside Muchmore. The lights
winked again.
“You were going to ask me some
guestions, lieutenant,” .Crewe re-
marked. “What were they?”
“This is one of them, Crewe. I
saw you tonight whea you laft the
@inch anything?”
his studio.
RE ETF. a
I came away
Indeed, his
“But I have done that |
merely to teach my audiences how to -
“you have some ac- |
Fut, all the same, you are the man I ,
you tonight, and I remembered then ;
Moreaux. Now I—"
4 incisive, but was not raised; and he
‘added coldly: “It isn’t safe to use that
expression
tenant Muchmore.
"1, too.
| to walk down to headquarters with
the Tock on the door, too. What were
you doing there?”
“I had been passing the evening,
with some friengs.”
‘You lie! You had beén wiki for.
, “Stop.” ' Crewe’s voice was sharp,
in: addressing me, Lieu-
Don’t do it again.”
* “You dare to threaten me?” Much-
more demanded angrily. “I have
more than half a mind to serve you
the same way I have served the mira-
cle worker.” :
“I don’t think I would attempt that
if IT were you,” Crewe said mildly.
and yet there was something in the
very mildness of it that compelled
the: lieutenant to hesitate.
“You've got something in common
with the artist, Crewe,” he said cross-
ly. “You are hand in glove with him.
I want to know what it is all about.”
Crewe made no reply.
“Things happened tonight at a
house where I was present and where
that artist was present also. Articles
of value were stolen. I am pretty cer-
tain that you know something about
“Anyhow, I'm going to invite you
me where you can tell the inspector
all about it. You’re not under arrest,
understand,” he ‘added with ‘a grim
smile. “This is merely a courteous
invitation.”
“Thanks,” said Crewe; and at that
instant the lights went out—and
stayed out.
For a moment there was silence
while all present seemed to wait for
them to flash on again. Then the front
door was heard to close with a bang,
and - something metallic fell to the
fioor beside the two officers.
Another moment passed and the
lights flashed on again—and the two
officers found themselves Igoking
wildly about them, and then staring
Dankly into each other’s faces.
The place was deserted save . for
themselves and Christy, who was!
night, or one of the nights not very |
lieutenant - —” Crewe be- |
_ gerous mildness.
' thoughtfully toward the ceiling before
building where the artist Moreaux has :
You had a key that fitted
placidly wiping glasses behind the |
tar. The chair that Sindahr had occu- |
pied was vacant. He was gone, and i
on the floor at their feet was the :
pair of handcuffs which had bound
him, still locked.
Even Crewe himself had disap-
peared.
“Well, I'll be—* Muchmore began
and stopped. “Christy, come here!”
CHAPTER IV.
Yhe Many-8ided Crewe.
“Where is Crewe, Christy?” Much-
more asked with extreme but dan-
He was quite con-
scious that he had gone a step too
far with the man of the blemished
face that night.
Christy ceased wiping the glass,
raised ' his chin and “his eyes gazed
he replied. Then he said:
“Scems to methat I heard him. say
something about a date that he had at
ten minutes to one. It’s about that
now, ain’t it, lute?” 3
Bunting had picked up the hand
cuffs and was examining them. He
held them out toward his side-part-
rer with the remark: :
“That miracle-worker slipped theri
all right. They were a snug fit, too.”
“Never mind that now,” Muchmore
replied. ‘Now, Christy, where is that
switch, and how do you work it?”
“What switch, lute?”
“I want to know how those lights
were turned on and off sc neatly,” the
lieutenant insisted, still. in the same
dangerously mild tone of voice.
“Lord love you, lute, that thing
happens every now and then, and al-
ways ‘long between twelve and one
o'clock. I guess there must be some-
thing wrong with the wiring — or
something.”
“Very likely. All the same I'l go
around behind the bar and have a
look for myself.”
“Sure. Come ahead. Say,
youge have to drink?”
Neither man paid the slightest at-
tention to the invitation. Muchmore
passed around the end of the bar and
spent five fruitless minutes search-
ing for an electric switch—and gave
it up; but he remained behind the
bar, facing Christy.
“I want té know how Crewe left
this place,” he said shortly.
“Well, lute, I guess you'll have to
ask him about that. I'm blowed if I
know. Why, I've known him. before
now to disappear while my: back was
turned—in_ broad daylight, too. That
miracle worker aint gét nothin’ on
him ‘if anybody should ask you™
“You will’ show me the way he
went out if you knew what is’ good for
you, Christy,” the lieutenant said
sharply. His quick temper was gas-
serting itself again.
_ “Gee, I wisht I knew XX. I wouldnt
have waited here, either — with you
that mad that you wanted to fight.
Say, hite, don’t you know that you
can ketch more flies with merlasses
that you ean with vinegar! That
aint no way to stack up against
Crewe, the way you done: it.”
“Well, Christy, one thing is quite
certain. You and Crewe both aided
a prisoner to escape, and so I'm going
to take you down to headquarters
with me, just to find out If your
knowledge and memory of things
won't improve on the: way.”
what'll
‘Now, wouldn't that ' jar you?”
Christy exclaimed without excite-
ment.
He was midway of the Iength of
the bar, facing Muchmore, who stood
in the opening at the end of it. *I
wasn’t anywhere near the miracie
worker, and I heard Bunting say just
that
prisoner.
‘rant for him.
now the guy slipped the irons
v
ve lll ~
off'n him. Anyhow, he wasnt: any
"You didn’t have any war
He was. only a suspi-
cious character, as you call it—ana J
ain’t one of them. I guess, maybe, if
you take me in for what happened
here tonight Ill go an’ sée my lawyer
tomorrow. How about that, lute?”
Christy was too ® “wise” to the
game to be frightened.
Muchmore realizéd that with a grim
smile. The onlysway to take him in
would be to plant something on Him,
or frame him up, and Muchmore and
Bunting were above that sort of thing.
“Do you think you could find a.
way to ask Crew. to return here,
Christy?” Muchmore asked him—"
and as he finished the question the
electric light winked again.
“There they go again,” the bar-
tender: chuckled. “Why, lemme see.
I don’t think he meant to be gone but
« few minutes when he went out.
You see, he was in his shirt sleeves,
and he hadn’t no hat, and—"
Christy stopped, gazing directly
ahead of him, past the lieutenant, to-
ward the hear of the room. Both offi-
cers had- their eyes upon him and had
not heard nor seen a door as it open-
ed suddenly at that end of the place.
But they turned their heads quickly
to follow Christy’s gaze ‘and discovers
ed Crewe advancing = toward them
with the swift motion that was his
chief characteristic. And he seemed
not in she least disturbed.
.“] ¢an’t find it, Chris— Hello!
Where is the professor? Oh, I see,
Muchmore; you decided to let him
g0.. I think you did right, too. .It is
closing time, boys. What will you
Eave before I lock up?” and he step-
ped behind the bar and stretched out
his arms in the customary gesture,
thus drawing the two officers around
in front ‘of him ‘again.
“We didn’t let him go; he let him-
self go, Crewe, ” said Bunting.
He had said very little since he em
tered the place; now, for some reas-
on—perhaps Muchmore had signaled
tu him—he took up the conversation!
and, had he but known it, Crewe liked
him, and respected him above the av-
erage.
“He slipped out of the cuffs and
chuckled them on the floor at our feet
while the lights were out. Oh, he’s a
miracle worker all right; take it from
“me.”
“Well, well!” said Crewe, and put
ont bottle and glasses, and a siphon
of vichy. He had never been known
to drink anything stronger than vichy
in his own place.
“But we don’t care anything shout
that, now, Crewe,” Bunting went on
quietly.
rious about is, how and when you got
out?”
“I? Why, I just walked out-—to
see if I could find out what was the
matter with the lights.”
‘Aw, say, Crewe, do we look as
easy-ss that?”
Crewe shrugged his shoulders,
“Oh, well, I won't \ry to convince
you. Have another? ;
after closing time, mow, and I don’t
want to get into trouble with the in-
spector of this, distriet. And say,
Muchmore, if you still insist, and will
wait, I'll take a walk down with you |
for that talk with your chief. How
about it?”
“Go ahead and close up,” Much.
more replied, still a bit unsettled as
to temper. “Then come into the back
room where Bunting and I ran have a
talk with you. That will 10 quite as
well.”
“Come on, then. Christy can do
the closing,” and he led the way to
the back room.
“Crewe,” Bunting began when the
three were seated together at the one
big round table that it contained, “do
you happen to know anything about a
wedding in high life that was pulled
off tonight?”
“Every crook in town has known
about it for a week, so why shouldn’t
I—since that is the way you bulls usu-
ally refer to me? The papers have
been filled with lists of the presents
and their priceless value.”
“That is just the point, Crewe.
Some of those presents were ‘lifted,’
and by a gun who was so slick that
Muchmore, who was assigned there,
and who was in the room all the time,
never had a chance to drop to it.”
“Well, what’s the answer, Bunt-
ing?”
“Muchmore and I believe that you
could assist us to recover that lost
property—and there is a generous re-
ward in it for all of us if you can.” -
“Se?”
“What do you say, Crewe?”
“Do you want to know what I say
about it, Bunting? This, then: Liew
tenant Muchmore began in a mighty |
poor way tonight, if he wished me to
do him a favor. He has insulted me
twice, and without reason.
“Unless’ he apologizes fully and
completely, and does it in the pres-
ence. of my bartender, I will have
‘nothing more to do with him—no®
with you, either, so long as you re-
mdin his sidepartner. You have got
nothing on me. I don't need you or
want you-—and I won't stand for that
gort of talk.”
“And if he will apologize—*
“I won't, so that ends it,” Much-
more interrupted, his temper again at
white heat.
The mere idea that he should be
called up te apologize to the keeper
of a resort for Crooks and thieves—
to that man Crewe, who was widely
supposed to condone every form of
vice save one—to the protector of
criminals — enraged him beyond
words.
He started to his feet in a storm of
fury, reaching for his weapon as he
did .so: but it was his own partnes.
a
“The thing that we are cu- |
Mo? Well, it’s !
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Pa lal
Punts, who' Blezed his arm and held
rev sat Bortcolis still, the blem-
ish on his facé glowing hideously un-
der the electric-bulb over the table.
Then, when that first paroxism of
rage had passed, when Bunting had
released his partner's arm, Crewe
slowly left his chair and threw open
the door that led into the hallway.
“Good night, Bunting,” he said.
“This is the way out. ‘Fell your
friend that when he comes to me in a
proper frame of mind and mahes that
apology because he believes it to be
due me, I may—I do not promise--I
may decide to try to help you both.”
(To be Continued.)
~~
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