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TITLE: BLINDFOLDED
AUTHOR: EARLE ASHLEY WALCOTT
EBOOK: E07199 (O'Briens Book Cellar)
LANGUAGE: ENGLISH

BLINDFOLDED

By

EARLE ASHLEY WALCOTT

CONTENTS

CHAPTER

  I A DANGEROUS ERRAND
  II A CRY FOR HELP
  III A QUESTION IN THE NIGHT
  IV A CHANGE OF NAME
  V DODDRIDGE KNAPP
  VI A NIGHT AT BORTON'S
  VII MOTHER BORTON
  VIII IN WHICH I MEET A FEW SURPRISES
  IX A DAY IN THE MARKET
  X A TANGLE OF SCHEMES
  XI THE DEN OF THE WOLF
  XII LUELLA KNAPP
  XIII A DAY OF GRACE
  XIV MOTHER BORTON'S ADVICE
  XV I AM IN THE TOILS
  XVI AN ECHO OF WARNING
  XVII IN A FOREIGN LAND
  XVIII THE BATTLE IN THE MAZE
  XIX A DEAL IN STOCKS
  XX MAKING PROGRESS
  XXI AT THE BIDDING OF THE UNKNOWN
  XXII TRAILED
  XXIII A PIECE OF STRATEGY
  XXIV ON THE ROAD
  XXV A FLUTTER IN THE MARKET
  XXVI A VISION OF THE NIGHT
  XXVII A LINK IN THE CHAIN
  XXVIII THE CHASE IN THE STORM
  XXIX THE HEART OF THE MYSTERY
  XXX THE END OF THE JOURNEY
  XXXI THE REWARD

BLINDFOLDED

CHAPTER I

A DANGEROUS ERRAND

A city of hills with a fringe of houses crowning the lower heights;
half-mountains rising bare in the background and becoming real
mountains as they stretched away in the distance to right and left; a
confused mass of buildings coming to the water's edge on the flat; a
forest of masts, ships swinging in the stream, and the streaked,
yellow, gray-green water of the bay taking a cold light from the
setting sun as it struggled through the wisps of fog that fluttered
above the serrated sky-line of the city--these were my first
impressions of San Francisco.

The wind blew fresh and chill from the west with the damp and salt of
the Pacific heavy upon it, as I breasted it from the forward deck of
the ferry steamer, _El Capitan_. As I drank in the air and was
silent with admiration of the beautiful panorama that was spread before
me, my companion touched me on the arm.

"Come into the cabin," he said. "You'll be one of those fellows who
can't come to San Francisco without catching his death of cold, and
then lays it on to the climate instead of his own lack of common sense.
Come, I can't spare you, now I've got you here at last. I wouldn't lose
you for a million dollars."

"I'll come for half the money," I returned, as he took me by the arm
and led me into the close cabin.

My companion, I should explain, was Henry Wilton, the son of my
father's cousin, who had the advantages of a few years of residence in
California, and sported all the airs of a pioneer. We had been close
friends through boyhood and youth, and it was on his offer of
employment that I had come to the city by the Golden Gate.

"What a resemblance!" I heard a woman exclaim, as we entered the cabin.
"They must be twins."

"There, Henry," I whispered, with a laugh; "you see we are discovered."
Though our relationship was not close we had been cast in the mold of
some common ancestor. We were so nearly alike in form and feature as to
perplex all but our intimate acquaintances, and we had made the
resemblance the occasion of many tricks in our boyhood days.

Henry had heard the exclamation as well as I. To my surprise, it
appeared to bring him annoyance or apprehension rather than amusement.

"I had forgotten that it would make us conspicuous," he said, more to
himself than to me, I thought; and he glanced through the cabin as
though he looked for some peril.

"We were used to that long ago," I said, as we found a seat. "Is the
business ready for me? You wrote that you thought it would be in hand
by the time I got here."

"We can't talk about it here," he said in a low tone. "There is plenty
of work to be done. It's not hard, but, as I wrote you, it needs a man
of pluck and discretion. It's delicate business, you understand, and
dangerous if you can't keep your head. But the danger won't be yours.
I've got that end of it."

"Of course you're not trying to do anything against the law?" I said.

"Oh, it has nothing to do with the law," he replied with an odd smile.
"In fact, it's a little matter in which we are--well, you might say--
outside the law."

I gave a gasp at this disturbing suggestion, and Henry chuckled as he
saw the consternation written on my face. Then he rose and said:

"Come, the boat is getting in."

"But I want to know--" I began.

"Oh, bother your 'want-to-knows.' It's not against the law--just
outside it, you understand. I'll tell you more of it when we get to my
room. Give me that valise. Come along now." And as the boat entered the
slip we found ourselves at the front of the pressing crowd that is
always surging in and out of San Francisco by the gateway of the
Market-Street ferry.

As we pushed our way through the clamoring hack-drivers and hotel-
runners who blocked the entrance to the city, I was roused by a sudden
thrill of the instinct of danger that warns one when he meets the eye
of a snake. It was gone in an instant, but I had time to trace effect
to cause. The warning came this time from the eyes of a man, a lithe,
keen-faced man who flashed a look of triumphant malice on us as he
disappeared in the waiting-room of the ferry-shed. But the keen face,
and the basilisk glance were burned into my mind in that moment as
deeply as though I had known then what evil was behind them.

My companion swore softly to himself.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"Don't look around," he said. "We are watched."

"The snake-eyed man?"

"Did you see him, too?" His manner was careless, but his tone was
troubled. "I thought I had given him the slip," he continued. "Well,
there's no help for it now."

"Are we to hunt for a hiding-place?" I asked doubtfully.

"Oh, no; not now. I was going to take you direct to my room. Now we are
going to a hotel with all the publicity we can get. Here we are."

"Internaytional! Internaytional!" shouted a runner by our side. "Yes,
sir; here you are, sir. Free 'bus, sir." And in another moment we were
in the lumbering coach, and as soon as the last lingering passenger had
come from the boat we were whirling over the rough pavement, through a
confusing maze of streets, past long rows of dingy, ugly buildings, to
the hotel.

Though the sun had but just set, the lights were glimmering in the
windows along Kearny Street as we stepped from the 'bus, and the
twilight was rapidly fading into darkness.

"A room for the night," ordered Henry, as we entered the hotel office
and saluted the clerk.

"Your brother will sleep with you?" inquired the clerk.

"Yes."

"That's right--if you are sure you can tell which is which in the
morning," said the clerk, with a smile at his poor joke.

Henry smiled in return, paid the bill, took the key, and we were shown
to our room. After removing the travel-stains, I declared myself quite
ready to dine.

"We won't need this again," said Henry, tossing the key on the bureau
as we left. "Or no, on second thought," he continued, "it's just as
well to leave the door locked. There might be some inquisitive
callers." And we betook ourselves to a hasty meal that was not of a
nature to raise my opinion of San Francisco.

"Are you through?" asked my companion, as I shook my head over a
melancholy piece of pie, and laid down my fork. "Well, take your bag.
This door--look pleasant and say nothing."

He led the way to the bar and then through a back room or two, until
with a turn we were in a blind alley. With a few more steps we found
ourselves in a back hall which led into another building. I became
confused after a little, and lost all idea of the direction in which we
were going. We mounted one flight of stairs, I remember, and after
passing through two or three winding hallways and down another flight,
came out on a side street.

After a pause to observe the street before we ventured forth, Henry

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