The idea was hardly practicable. He might meet other enemies, and in that event he would not care to have an enemy already at his side. It came to him for the first time that the nearer he approached his goal, the greater would be the opposition he would have to overcome. Whatever else the South Americans and j.a.panese might do, they would have their guards about the house of the girl's father. Hitherto he had a.s.sumed that, once free of Alcatrante and safe on the train to Arradale, he would have plain going; but now he realized that the dangers would pile up higher as he advanced. In any event, he must get rid of Alcatrante, and as they approached the elevator grills, he spoke.

"Senhor," he said, "unless you stop following me, I shall be obliged to hurt you. I give you fair warning."

Alcatrante laughed. "If you hurt me, as you threaten, you will find yourself in difficulties. You will be arrested, and you will have no opportunity to deliver the doc.u.ments on time. My position as minister--my extra-territoriality--will make it very difficult for you to extricate yourself."

Orme looked grimly down into the sallow face. "My fist against your chin," he said, "might do it."

Alcatrante did not lose his smile. "You will hardly try that, I think.

There would not be time for you to get away. People in these pa.s.sing elevators would see you."

Orme turned away and pressed the "down" b.u.t.ton, and a few seconds later a descending car stopped. He pushed his way in, Alcatrante after him.

The elevator was crowded. Clerks and stenographers were beginning to leave their offices, for the hour was nearly five. Orme wedged his way in at one side and, in order to gain a momentary sense of seclusion, turned his back upon the persons who were pressing against him and stood with face to the side of the cage, looking through the scroll-work of the grating to the swiftly ascending cables in the next well. He was conscious that Alcatrante stood close to him as the car began to slip downward. It was all very ridiculous, this persistent pursuit of him.

Suddenly Alcatrante's voice burst out, "Stop the car! I've been robbed!

Stop the car!"

There was immediate commotion; a girl screamed, and the swaying of the huddled group made the car rattle. The elevator-man quickly threw over his lever. The car stopped with a jerk, between floors.

Orme had started to turn with the others, but with a quick exclamation he checked his movement and pressed his face again to the grating. A remarkable thing had happened. The ascending car in the next well had stopped at Alcatrante's outcry. The few pa.s.sengers it was carrying, eager to see what was happening, hurried to the side nearest to Orme. Less than two feet from his face was the face of a girl. Almost before he saw her at all he knew her. He forgot that he had given her apparent cause to doubt him; he did not stop to wonder what she was doing in this building.

"Girl!" he whispered.

Her lips parted; her eyes opened wider.

"Girl! Go to Tom Wallingham's office. I'll come up there. Keep out of sight when you hear me coming. Alcatrante is with me."

She nodded.

"I have the papers," he added, and his heart thumped happily when he saw joy and grat.i.tude flash into her eyes.

From his position and manner he might have been explaining to her what was happening in his own car. But now, conscious of the necessity of taking part in the discussion about him, he reluctantly turned away from the girl.

Alcatrante was still exclaiming volubly. His purse had disappeared. It had been in his pocket just before he entered the car. Therefore someone in the car must have taken it. He did not accuse any single person, though he flashed suspicious glances at Orme, who recognized, of course, that the move was directed against himself.

To embarra.s.s Orme with arrest and detention would well suit the purposes of Alcatrante. At this late hour such an event would prevent the delivery of the papers. Orme wondered whether the minister had realized that the papers might be found by the police and disposed of properly. The explanation of this apparent oversight on the part of Alcatrante was not difficult, however, for, perhaps it was not a part of the plan that Orme should be actually thrown into a cell. It was more likely that an arrest would be followed, after as much delay as Alcatrante could secure, by a refusal to prosecute. One advantage to Alcatrante would be the opportunity of getting a.s.sistance while Orme was in the hands of the police so that after the prisoner was released he would have more than one person to contend with. Alcatrante would give up acting alone.

"Somebody has my purse!" Alcatrante was shouting. "Somebody here! You must not let anybody out!"

The elevator-boy had been gaping in seeming paralysis, but now several of the pa.s.sengers--men who doubtless were sure of their positions--were angrily ordering him to take the car down. Some of them had trains to catch.

"No! No!" screamed Alcatrante.

Orme had kept out of the discussion, but now he spoke quietly. "I think, Senhor Alcatrante"--he uttered the name distinctly, knowing that the South American probably did not wish himself identified--"I think that, if the boy will take the car almost to the bottom, the starter will help you."

There was a chorus of seconds to this suggestion. The boy pulled the lever and let the car descend slowly, while Alcatrante continued to exclaim.

How would the South American try to throw suspicion where he wished it?

Orme puzzled over this question, for certainly the police would not arrest all the pa.s.sengers. And then he suddenly remembered how Alcatrante had crowded against him when they entered the car.

A cold wave of horror swept over him. Was it possible that----?

He put his hand into the left side pocket of his coat. Something was there that did not belong there--a smooth, bulging purse. Alcatrante had put it there.

Orme fingered the purse. He would have to get rid of it, but he dared not to drop it to the floor, and if he thrust it through the grating and let it fall into the elevator well, someone would be almost certain to detect the action. There was only a moment left before the car would stop. He looked down at Alcatrante, who was close in front of him. Then his face relaxed and in spite of the gravity of his situation he smiled; for he had found a solution. Promptly he acted upon it.

The car halted just below the ceiling of the first floor. "What's the matter with you?" called a voice--the voice of the starter.

"Man robbed," said the elevator-boy.

"Bring the car down."

"No!" shouted Alcatrante. "The thief is in the car. He must not escape."

"I won't let him out. Bring the car down."

The boy let the car descend to the floor level. The starter placed himself against the gate. "Now then, who was robbed?" he demanded.

Alcatrante crowded forward. "It was I. My purse is gone. I had it just before I got in."

"Oh, it was you, was it?" The starter remembered the trouble Alcatrante had made a few minutes before. "Sure you didn't drop it?"

"I am certain that I did not."

The pa.s.sengers were shuffling their feet about, in a vain effort to touch the lost property. A young girl was giggling hysterically.

"Perhaps you put it in the wrong pocket, and didn't look careful enough."

"I looked, I looked," exclaimed Alcatrante. "Do you think I would not know. See! I put it in this pocket, which now is empty."

He thrust his hand into the pocket which he had indicated. Suddenly his expression changed to astonishment.

"Find it?" grinned the starter.

With the blankest of looks Alcatrante pulled the purse from his pocket.

"It was not there two minutes ago," he muttered.

"You've been dreamin'," remarked the starter, opening the gate with a bang. "All out!"

Orme chuckled to himself. In a moment Alcatrante would realize how the purse had been replaced in his pocket, and he would be furious. Meantime Orme entered another elevator, to go back to the eighth floor, and, as he had expected, the minister followed him.

When they were outside the office of the Wallingham Company, Orme paused, his hand on the door. "Senhor Alcatrante," he said, "this business must end. I shall simply have to call the police."

"At your own risk," said Alcatrante. Then an ugly light flashed in his eyes and his upper lip lifted above his yellow teeth. "You got the better of me there in the elevator," he snarled. "You won't get the better again."

Orme opened the office-door. He glanced about the reception-room, to see whether the girl had hidden herself. She was not in view; indeed, there was even no one at the inquiry-window. Orme reasoned that at this hour some of the clerks might be leaving--which would mean, perhaps, that they were first putting away their books. At least they would not be expecting business callers.

The door of the great sample refrigerator was ajar only two or three feet. When Orme was there a few minutes before it had been wide open. He wondered whether the girl had chosen it as her hiding-place. If she had, his plan of action would be simplified, for he would slip the papers in to her, then get Alcatrante from the room.