In another moment I found myself back in my room, the radium, pincushion and all, locked away, the key securely hidden and my mind made up. Painful though it was I should have to tell O’Leary immediately of this thing. I do not hold friendship lightly and the shock of finding the stolen radium in Maida’s possession almost unnerved me.
I had forgotten about the buttons and it was something of an anticlimax to catch myself starting down to dinner in a black silk kimono. I had to go to the bottom of my trunk for an old uniform that I had cast aside as being too tight. It was still too tight and very uncomfortable, being made with a Bishop collar which is high and stiff and scratched the lobes of my ears.
There was no need to telephone to O’Leary, for as I neared the general office I caught a glimpse of his smooth brown head bent over some papers on the long table. I entered.
“I have found the radium,” I said quietly.
He looked up, jumped to his feet. I did not need to repeat my words.
“Where is it?”
“In my room. Shall I bring it to you?”
He hesitated, his eyes travelling around the office with its several doors and windows.
“This is too public. Someone would be sure to see it. Where did you find it?”
I swallowed.
“In—Miss Day’s room.”
His gaze narrowed thoughtfully.
“You must tell me about it later. First I must have the radium.”
Our voices had dropped to whispers and my heart was pounding.
“Shall we put it in the safe?” I motioned toward the inner office which holds a great steel safe, in a prepared compartment of which the radium is usually kept.
“No.” O’Leary shook his head decisively. “No. I must put it in the hands of the chief of police at once. Look here, Miss Keate; in three minutes I shall walk slowly across the main hall with this bundle of newspapers under my arm. At the foot of the stairway I shall pass you just descending. It is rather dark there by the stairs. Hand me the box and keep right on going. Don’t stop. Later I shall see you and hear how you found it.”
I followed his bidding. As I came slowly down the last flight of stairs he walked carelessly across the hall. There was no one about and I was sure that the transfer was effected without anyone’s knowledge.
With a casual nod I went on around the turn and followed the basement stairs down to the dining room. I ate what was set before me and kept my eyes from Maida.
It must have been about twenty minutes later that I ascended the stairs again and paused in the main hall. There was a light in the general office, excited voices, and Dr. Hajek and Dr. Balman were bending over something that lay on the long table.
I entered.
Lance O’Leary was stretched on the table, his face lead-gray, his eyes closed. Dr. Balman had out his stethoscope and was listening intently and Dr. Hajek was forcing aromatic ammonia through O’Leary’s pale lips.
There was a rapidly swelling lump back of O’Leary’s right ear and the small box that was so precious was not to be seen.
At a glance I understood.
“Is he—alive, Dr. Balman?”
Dr. Balman nodded, detaching the stethoscope with long hands that shook.
“Dr. Hajek and I were starting down to dinner,” he explained. His voice sounded hoarse and his anxious eyes were fixed upon O’Leary. “We found him like this. All huddled on the floor there near the stairway.”
XIV
A Matter of Evidence
I must say that I was considerably relieved to see O’Leary’s eyelids flutter, the colour return to his face, and to note that his breath began to come more naturally. In a few moments he was sitting upright on the edge of the table, supported by Dr. Balman’s arm.
“What on earth happened to you?” inquired Dr. Balman, looking relieved also.
“I don’t know,” replied O’Leary rather dazedly. “All I remember is something coming down on my head. When did you find me?”
“About fifteen minutes ago. Dr. Hajek and I were just going downstairs. It was not very light in the hallway and you were in the shadow there by the stairs. It—gave us a nasty shock. Do you know why you were attacked?”
O’Leary flicked a warning glance at me and shook his head.
“Haven’t the least idea,” he said flatly.
Dr. Hajek, who had been standing silently by, stirred at this.
“Then you were not on the point of making a—er—disclosure?” he asked with an air of disappointment. His ruddy face was as unmoved and stolid as ever, but it seemed to me that those dark, knowing eyes were restrained and secretive and did not meet O’Leary’s gaze squarely.
“No such luck! By the way, were you men coming up from downstairs when you found me?”
“No,” replied Dr. Balman. “No. I had been OK-ing some orders in the inner office; Dr. Hajek came out of his room into the general office just as I, too, entered it and we walked together out into the hall and toward the basement stairs.”
“You saw nothing unusual?”
“Nothing. We were talking of advertising for a new janitor. It was—” Dr. Balman’s kind, distressed eyes roved over O’Leary anxiously as if to be quite sure he was not hurt—“it was, as I said, a shock. For a moment we feared the worst.” He drew out a handkerchief and wiped his pale lips nervously, his fingers lingering to pull at his thin beard. “Mr. O’Leary, I know that you are working hard and I don’t mean to criticize but really—I—” he hesitated as if put to it to find words. “You see for yourself to what terrible straits this thing has brought us. We don’t know what to expect next. Can nothing be done to stop it?”
It was just at this interesting point, of course, that Miss Dotty had to interrupt and summon me away, and it was
