The Five Chameleons

Chapter V — Ferret Is Pleased

Riding westward on the Whirlwind Limited, a man in the club car was idly noting the headlines of a Detroit newspaper. The train was speeding through the Michigan countryside. The man who was reading divided his time between the scenery and the paper.

It was Ferret — he who bore the name Joel Hawkins. Leisurely, well-attired, he appeared no more than a New York business man bound for the Middle West.

Ferret's eyes gleamed. The man's placidity turned to craftiness as he noted a certain headline over a New York news item:

The account referred to the affray of the previous night. Eagerly, Ferret scanned the details. A puzzled frown appeared upon his forehead.

According to the report, a mob of gunmen had invaded the apartment of a lawyer named Daniel Antrim. There, guns had broken loose. The lawyer had been slain by the mobsters. It had developed into a shooting party of magnitude — a battle which indicated the warring of rival factions. When the smoke had cleared away, the police had entered to find four men dead and two wounded. One of the dead was Daniel Antrim, the attorney. Another was Solly Bricker, notorious gang leader. In the latter's pocket, the police had discovered papers that showed Antrim's handwriting. These documents contained evidence incriminating Solly Bricker of many misdeeds. It was evident that Daniel Antrim had conducted negotiations with various criminals.

Otherwise, he would not have established facts that were entirely unknown to the police — facts which manifested themselves in the papers found on Solly Bricker.

It was supposed that Solly had come to Antrim's to discuss affairs of mutual interest.

Evidently, Solly's gang had been lying low in the hallway outside the apartment. The lawyer and the gang leader had come to guns instead of terms.

Solly's henchmen had rallied to his rescue. But Antrim, wise to the ways of gangdom, had relied upon a crew of his own. The result had been the end of Solly and his crowd. There was sufficient proof that men had escaped from the place. Daniel Antrim could not have accounted for five enemies, single-handed. All indications showed that he had been put out of action early in the melee. Moreover, the dead and wounded were all of Solly's outfit.

A policeman, entering the rear of the apartment, while his fellows were coming in through the front, had encountered an escaping man. The officer had failed to stop the fugitive.

Thus it was positive that at least one man had made a get-away from the premises. Others might have gone before. Ferret wondered. The amazing result of the fracas seemed incredible. The one escaping man — that must have been the fellow whom Solly cracked at the door. Ferret had seen the man go down, completely out.

Had he come to life and accounted for the gangsters single-handed? That seemed to be the only answer. Ferret read the account again and again. He threw the paper aside and stared unseeing from the window. After all, what did it matter? The affair was for the best. Daniel Antrim was dead — and the blame lay on Solly. Had the gang leader gotten away, the police would now be looking for the lawyer's slayer. As it was, they were seeking among gangsters who were known to be inimical to Solly Bricker. A satisfied smile curled over Ferret's lips. He had gone against Major's instructions. He had walked into a tough spot, looking for personal revenge, when he should have been serving the Five Chameleons. He had stepped away in safety, and the others had shot it out. Ferret had started something with which he would never be connected. It was work that he liked. He had done well in New York!

Now, his opportunity lay far away. Unmixed with affairs in New York, he could pursue his intended task. He grinned as he thought of Major. His companion would never know of Ferret's unscheduled activity in New York.

Ferret bore the air of a man who had squared accounts. He picked up the newspaper again and rested his finger on the name of Daniel Antrim. A fiendish sneer came over his face. Then, realizing that persons might be watching him, the stoop-shouldered man dropped the journal and walked back toward the dining car.

The longer Ferret considered the subject, the more pleased he became with his own immunity. At times he had qualms, fearing that Major might read the account of the gun battle and perceive some connection between it and Ferret. But he soon dismissed these thoughts as ridiculous. When the Limited reached Chicago, Ferret obtained a local newspaper and perused a fuller account of the New York affair. The Chicago journals were always ready to play up shooting matches that took place in Manhattan.

The chief concern of the New York police, he read, appeared to be directed toward the future. The affair at Antrim's might mean the beginning of extended feuds.

Taking another train in Chicago, Ferret proceeded westward. He was coming to the end of his journey, far away from New York. It was late the following afternoon when the train approached the stop of Middletown Junction. That was Ferret's destination.

He alighted at the platform of an old station. The short branch line running to Middletown was no longer in operation. A bus had replaced it.

Ferret took the bus, and half an hour later the vehicle stopped on the main street of a prosperous Middle Western town. Ferret stepped off and consulted a paper which he drew from his pocket. He asked no questions here. Suitcase in hand, he sauntered along the main street. He walked by a block of modern construction, made up of new buildings, all connected into one, to form the pride of Middletown.

Ferret noticed a marble-fronted bank in the middle of the block. A larger bank occupied the farthest corner. Here, Ferret turned right and crossed the town square.

He had never been in Middletown before, yet he knew his way perfectly. On the opposite side of the square, he entered the beginning of a residential district, and within a few blocks he turned up the walk to the front door of a good-sized house. Here he rang the bell, and a maid quickly appeared in answer. Ferret handed her a card that bore the name of Joel Hawkins. He inquired if Mr. Traver was at home. The maid responded in the affirmative, and conducted Ferret into a small parlor. She returned later, and led him to the door of a room near the back of the first floor.

Ferret entered and grinned. A man was seated at a desk, going over a stack of mail. He was a man past middle age, of strong physique and stern face. His thick hair was gray, and he carried himself like a prosperous man who held a high position in his community. Ferret closed the door.

"Hello, Judge!" he said.

The man looked up sternly.

"You are Mr. Hawkins?" he inquired.

Ferret, taken aback by this, could only nod.

"You wish to see me?" came the question.

"Yes— er— Mr. Traver," said Ferret. A broad grin appeared upon the gray-haired man's face. He arose and walked over to Ferret. He shoved out his hand, and Ferret accepted it with another grin.

"Glad to see you, Ferret," said Judge, in a pleased tone. "Major wired me that you would be here first. You made good time. Have you been behaving yourself?"

"Yes," lied Ferret.

He met Judge's cold, questioning stare. The other man appeared satisfied. Ferret was inwardly relieved. Major might be shrewd, but he could not compare with Judge. This man, despite an expression of benignity that cloaked his countenance, was one who could not be easily deceived.

"Sit down," invited Judge.

Ferret obeyed.

"We shall not go into details tonight," declared Judge. "There will be plenty of time — after you have acclimated yourself to Middletown. But remember, Ferret, this is a small city. It has its own ways, and you must accustom yourself to them. Middletown is not New York." The comparison was an apt one; though Judge did not realize it, it made an immediate impression upon Ferret, who was fresh from his New York adventure.

Judge, still speaking quietly, rang a bell. The maid entered.

"Mr. Hawkins will remain for dinner," announced Judge.

Ferret was thinking, wondering what lay ahead in Middletown. Judge was his leader, a man whom Ferret feared and obeyed.

His inability to foresee the future made Ferret's mind swing to the past — to the last day on the yacht, when they had drank the health of Judge — to the instructions given him by Major — to his defiance of those orders, and the resulting fight at Antrim's.

Judge was finishing his work at the desk, and Ferret's thoughts were miles away. His half-closed eyes were picturing the wounded form of Daniel Antrim, the menacing figure of Solly Bricker— Then, into Ferret's mind, came speculation over the strange outcome of the fray.

It was a matter that had troubled him ever since he had read the first report in the Detroit newspaper. Who had brought the battle to its strange ending? Who could have entered to deal death and destruction — then to escape before the police arrived?

As though endowed with clairvoyance. Ferret was visualizing someone in back of the grim game at Antrim's — a figure of power and of vengeance. As Judge began to speak, Ferret brought himself back to his surroundings, and the momentary vision faded from his mind. Ferret was laughing at his own fears. Yet in that moment, he had been near to the truth. Safe from gangdom, safe from the law, Ferret could not be free from a man who knew both — yet worked with neither.

Crafty though Ferret had been, his escape and his new environment could not remain unknown to The Shadow!