Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1916-02-10
CHAPTER VI.
The Pack Gives Tongue.

The Pack Gives Tongue.
Lanyard's first destination was that
convenient little ground-iioor apart
ment near the Trocadero, at the juno
ton of the Rue Roget and the Avenue
de fAlma; but his way thither was so
roundabout that the best part of an
hour was required for what might
have been less than a twenty-minute
taxicab course direct from Troyon's.
1t was past one when he arrived,
afoot, at the corner
Not that he grudged the time, for
in Lanyard's esteem Bourke's epigram
had come to have the weight and
force of IN axiom: "The more trouble
you make for yourself, the less the
dear public will make for you"
Periodically, he hadn't the least in
tention of attempting to deceive any
body as to his permanent address in
Paris, where Michael Lanyard, con.
noisseur of fine paintings, was a figure
too conspicuous to permit of his max
ing a secret of his residence. De
M%orbihan, moreover, through ~recogniz-
ing him at Troyon's, had rendered it
impossible for Lanyard to adopt a nom
de guerre there, ever had he thought
such course advisable.
But he had certain matters to attend
to before dawn, affairs demanding
privacy; and while by no means sure
he was followed, one can seldom be
sur of anything, especially in Paris,
where nothing is impossible; and it
seemed as well to lose a hypothetical
spy first as last. And his mind would
not be at ease with respect to Roddy,
thanks to De Morbihan's ~gasconade
in the hearing of the detective, and
also to that hint which the count had
dropped concerning a fatal blunder in
the course of Lanyard's British cam
paign.
He fitted key to latch and quietly let
himself into his fat by a private en-
trance from the street, the possession
of which, in addition to the usual
door opening on the court and under
the eye of the concierge, distinguished
this from the ordinary Partisan apart
ment and rendered it doubly suited to
the a~dventurer's uses.
Then he turned on the lights and
moved quickly from room to, room of
the three comprising his quarters,
with comprehensive g~lances reviewing
their condition.
But, indeed, he hadn't left the re-
ception hall for the salon without feel
ing assured that things were in no re-
spect as they ought to be-a hat he
had left on the hall-rack had been
moved to another peg; a chair had
been shifted six inches from Its or
dained position, and the door of a
clothes closet, which he had locked on
leaving, now stood an inch ajar.
The state of the salon, which he
had furnished as a lounge and study,
and of the tiny dining room and the
bedchamber adjoining, bore out these
testimonies to the fact that alien
hands had thoroughly ransacked the
apartment, leaving no square inch un.
s~crutinized.
Yet he missed nothing. His rooms
were a private gallery of valuable
paintings and antique furniture to
poison with envy the mind of any col
lector, and housed into the bargain a
small museum Of rare books, manu-
scripts, and minor articles of exquis-
tie workmanship whose individuality,
aside from intrinsic worth, rendered
them priceless. A burglar of discrimi-
nation could have carried away in one
coat pocket loot enough to foot the
bill for twelve months of profigate
living. But nothing had been removed
nothing, at least, that was apparent
in the first tour of inspection; which,
If sweeping, was in no way superficial.
He moved slowly from object to OBJ
ject, checking off items and noting
their condition, with the sole result of
justifying his first impression-where-
as nothing had escaped handling, moth
ing had been removed.
AS a last test he opened his desk
of which the lock proved to have been
deity picked-drew up a chair, and
went through its pigeonholes. His
scanty correspondence, composed
chiefly of letters exchanged with art
dealers, had been ccrutinized and re-
placed carelessly, in disorder-and
here again he missed nothing; but in
the end, removing a small drawer and
inserting a hand in the recess, he
found and pressed a spring which re-
leased a rack Of pigeonholes and ex-
posed the secret cabinet which forms
an inevitable attribute Of such pieces
of period furniture.
A shallow box, this secret space con-
tanned one thing only, but that one Of
considerable value, being the leather
bill-fold in which the adventurer kept
a store Of ready money against emer-
gencies.
It was mostly for this, indeed. that
he had come to his apartment; his
London campaign having demanded
an expenditure far beyond his calcula.
tons, so that he had landed in Paris
with less than one hundred francs in
pocket. And Lanyard, for all his pride
Of spirit, acknowledged one haunting