The Pickens sentinel. (Pickens, S.C.) 1911-2016, 1914-12-17
CHAPTER XIII.
A SPORTING Offer.

Some two hours later, that same
evening, Mr.. Alan Law, very much
alive and, in spite of complete new
outfit Of ready-made clothing, looking
much more like himself than he had
in fortnight, issued forth from the
Grand Central station, hailed a taxi
cab. and had himself conveyed to the
Hotel Monolith.
But if he looked his proper self once
more, it speedily was demonstrated
that his wish was otherwise: for after
learning from the room-clerk Of the
Monolith that a suite was being held
in the name Of Arthur Lawrence, that
was the name Mr.. Law inscribed on
the register.
On the other hand, it was his true
name that he gave to the person whom
he called upon the telephone immedi-
ately after being shown to his rooms.
But then he was speaking tc his old
friend and man Of business, Mr.. Digby.
Within another ten minutes this last
was in conference with his employer:
"I think you must be out Of your
head" he insisted nervously, once
their first greetings were over. you
might just as sensibly throw yourself
from the top of the Metropolitan tower
as come to New York while Trine lives
and knows you're this side the water"
"Nonsense!" Alan laughed. "Remem-
ber this is New York-not the back
woods of Maine!"
Alan paused and smote his palm
with a remorseful fist. "By the Eter-
nal, I'm forgetting Barcus!"
"Barcus?"
"Chap whose boat 1 chartered in
Portland-sheer luck on my part: he's
one Of the salt Of the arth. First,
something must be done for the boy.
You've got influence Of some sort in
New Bedford, surely?"
Digby reflected: Some. There's
George Blaine, justice Of the peace"
"The very man. Telegraph him in
Barcus' interests Immediately. And
telegraph Barcus as well-send him
hundred for expenses, and tell him
to join me here in New York as quick
as he cant"
"Your friends address," Digby in
quired, mildly ironic as he sat down
at the desk and fumbled with the sup
ply Of stationery.
"New Bedford Jail, Of course!" Alan
chuckled-but cut his laugh in two as
something futtered from the pack of
envelopes which Digby had disturbed
and fell to the floor between the two
men.
Face up, it grinned sardonic mock
cry of Alan's confidence: it was trey
of hearts.
With an ashen face and trembling
hand, Digby stopped to pick the
damned thing up; but Alan was be-
forehand with him, and got his fingers
first upon the card.
Now will you believer" Digby de-
manded huskily.
"In what? A simple coincidence"
Alan fouted. mot L! Who knows I'm
in New York-or that the Arthur Law
renee for whom your agent engaged
these rooms was Alan Law. No, my
friend: it's bit too thick for me- Take
my word for it, this is nothing more
nor less than a souvenir Of a poker
party held by yesterdays tenant of
this suite
"Perhaps-perhaps!" Digby assent
ed, stroking tremulous lips. "But I'm
afraid for you, my boy. Who knows
that Trine's spies were not watching
my man when he made this reserva-
ton? Who knows but that Arthur
Lawrence was too thin disguise for
Alan Law? 1 tell you, I'm frightened
to the marrow of my old bones! Do
me this favor at least, my boy: now
that you've been warned, whether by
accident or design-we won't argue
that-do leave town-go incognito to
some quiet place near by and wait