lying there dead. And then I screamed—”
She put her hands over her eyes.
“After that, I came here for help.”
“You weren’t very helpful yourself, were you?” said Benson quietly. “Why didn’t you tell us this before?”
Harriet spread her hands miserably.
“I come for help, and what is the first thing I find? You are working for Farquar; for the man I feel is Dad’s bitter enemy! I didn’t know whether you were really in with him, or were being hoodwinked by him. I gave you the benefit of the doubt by staying here, but I didn’t dare tell all I knew till I’d found out more about you.”
“You’re not telling all you know, even now,” said The Avenger, face as calm as his voice. “There’s something more. What is it?”
“There isn’t any more—”
“What is it?” said Dick inexorably.
So Harriet, after a pleading glance, gave in.
“While the two were in the alley, I saw still another man appear from somewhere and do something to the first car—the sedan. He might have been searching it, I don’t know. I was watching the alley more than the car and only saw the man out of the corner of my eye.”
“For goodness’ sake,” said Nellie impatiently. “I don’t see why you should be so careful to keep that to yourself!”
“I think I do,” said Benson quietly. He was still staring at Harriet. “You felt you knew that man searching the car, didn’t you?”
“Why, I . . . I—”
“You thought it was your father!”
And then the little pinpoint of red showed near the door, in warning that someone was in the vestibule downstairs. Josh went to the tiny television set that revealed anyone there.
“Markham Farquar,” Josh said. And he pressed the admittance buzzer at Benson’s nod.
“Farquar?” cried Harriet wildly. “Let me out of here! I don’t want to face that man!”
Nellie looked at The Avenger, and Benson nodded again. So Nellie took Harriet out and down to her room on the second floor.
“You know what I think?” said Smitty. And the giant said it regretfully because Harriet was a very pretty girl and Smitty was susceptible to such. “I think she’s in with her father on this blackmail plot. I think she’s hanging around here, trying to spy on us, and ready to throw a monkey wrench in the gears if we begin to really threaten Beall’s safety.”
Then the door opened and Markham Farquar came in. The man whom Harriet Beall didn’t dare face.
Farquar looked like a sick man. Gone was his imposing carriage and his air of authority. He seemed less than life-size, shriveled, defeated.
“I just came to tell you,” he said dully, “that I’m giving up the fight on this affair. I’m licked. I’m going to scrape together the blackmail sum, pay it, and get some peace.”
“Oh?” said Benson, face impassive. “You’ve had more trouble lately, then?”
Farquar laughed a little wildly. “Trouble! Four times in ten hours I’ve missed being killed by a matter of inches! Somehow, someone has rung a gang of killers or racketeers in on this. I think the attempts on my life were deliberately meant not quite to succeed. Just to show me on how slim a thread my life hung if I didn’t surrender! So—I’m giving in.”
“Well, I’m not.”
Dick Benson’s eyes were like cold wells of pale ice in his expressionless face.
“There has been murder. There have been attempts at kidnaping. Such things are my business, Mr. Farquar. I intend to go ahead.”
Farquar’s shoulders straightened a very little. He looked hopefully at The Avenger.
“You think we have a chance to beat them?”
“I do,” said Benson.
“You give me new courage,” said Farquar, voice a bit tremulous. “Very well, then, we’ll try a little longer.”
“Would you like to put up here at Bleek Street?” asked Benson. “It would stop these attempts on your life.”
Farquar shook his head.
“I’ll stay for a while to throw possible trailers off my track; then I’ll go home and
She put her hands over her eyes.
“After that, I came here for help.”
“You weren’t very helpful yourself, were you?” said Benson quietly. “Why didn’t you tell us this before?”
Harriet spread her hands miserably.
“I come for help, and what is the first thing I find? You are working for Farquar; for the man I feel is Dad’s bitter enemy! I didn’t know whether you were really in with him, or were being hoodwinked by him. I gave you the benefit of the doubt by staying here, but I didn’t dare tell all I knew till I’d found out more about you.”
“You’re not telling all you know, even now,” said The Avenger, face as calm as his voice. “There’s something more. What is it?”
“There isn’t any more—”
“What is it?” said Dick inexorably.
So Harriet, after a pleading glance, gave in.
“While the two were in the alley, I saw still another man appear from somewhere and do something to the first car—the sedan. He might have been searching it, I don’t know. I was watching the alley more than the car and only saw the man out of the corner of my eye.”
“For goodness’ sake,” said Nellie impatiently. “I don’t see why you should be so careful to keep that to yourself!”
“I think I do,” said Benson quietly. He was still staring at Harriet. “You felt you knew that man searching the car, didn’t you?”
“Why, I . . . I—”
“You thought it was your father!”
And then the little pinpoint of red showed near the door, in warning that someone was in the vestibule downstairs. Josh went to the tiny television set that revealed anyone there.
“Markham Farquar,” Josh said. And he pressed the admittance buzzer at Benson’s nod.
“Farquar?” cried Harriet wildly. “Let me out of here! I don’t want to face that man!”
Nellie looked at The Avenger, and Benson nodded again. So Nellie took Harriet out and down to her room on the second floor.
“You know what I think?” said Smitty. And the giant said it regretfully because Harriet was a very pretty girl and Smitty was susceptible to such. “I think she’s in with her father on this blackmail plot. I think she’s hanging around here, trying to spy on us, and ready to throw a monkey wrench in the gears if we begin to really threaten Beall’s safety.”
Then the door opened and Markham Farquar came in. The man whom Harriet Beall didn’t dare face.
Farquar looked like a sick man. Gone was his imposing carriage and his air of authority. He seemed less than life-size, shriveled, defeated.
“I just came to tell you,” he said dully, “that I’m giving up the fight on this affair. I’m licked. I’m going to scrape together the blackmail sum, pay it, and get some peace.”
“Oh?” said Benson, face impassive. “You’ve had more trouble lately, then?”
Farquar laughed a little wildly. “Trouble! Four times in ten hours I’ve missed being killed by a matter of inches! Somehow, someone has rung a gang of killers or racketeers in on this. I think the attempts on my life were deliberately meant not quite to succeed. Just to show me on how slim a thread my life hung if I didn’t surrender! So—I’m giving in.”
“Well, I’m not.”
Dick Benson’s eyes were like cold wells of pale ice in his expressionless face.
“There has been murder. There have been attempts at kidnaping. Such things are my business, Mr. Farquar. I intend to go ahead.”
Farquar’s shoulders straightened a very little. He looked hopefully at The Avenger.
“You think we have a chance to beat them?”
“I do,” said Benson.
“You give me new courage,” said Farquar, voice a bit tremulous. “Very well, then, we’ll try a little longer.”
“Would you like to put up here at Bleek Street?” asked Benson. “It would stop these attempts on your life.”
Farquar shook his head.
“I’ll stay for a while to throw possible trailers off my track; then I’ll go home and
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