The Triple Trail

CHAPTER XIX SIGNET SPEAKS

“LOOKS like we helped you out, fellow,” remarked Joe Cardona, turning to Montague Verne.

“You did,” returned Verne, with a smile. “I take it,” — he eyed Joe, then Jurling — “that you are representatives of the law?”

“That’s right,” nodded Cardona. “From headquarters. I’m Detective Cardona. Handling the Treblaw case as acting inspector.”

“Excellent,” declared Verne. “You are the very man whom I wanted to see, under the circumstances as they have now developed.” He looked toward Jurling; then inquired of Joe: “This is one of your men?”

“Yeah,” returned Cardona, shortly. He shot a wise look at Jurling. “We had a hunch that something might be wrong here. We saw your advertisement in the Classic. You’re Signet, eh?”

“I have used that name,” replied Verne, with a smile. “Circumstances forced the part upon me. My real name is Montague Verne. I would have revealed that fact long ago, but for the untimely death of Stanton Treblaw. Whether wisely or unwisely, I took certain duties upon myself. I knew that Treblaw had been murdered because of a certain manuscript that he possessed. I believed that clever bluff could coax forth the master criminal who had ordered Treblaw’s death.

“The man showed himself tonight. There, in that chair,” — Verne indicated Kelk — “you have the person who was out to get the Cellini manuscript. His name — at least the name he gave me — is Tully Kelk.”

Joe walked over to the chair, where Kelk was slouched in half-dazed fashion. Gripping the man’s chin, Cardona pushed it up so that the light fell full upon Kelk’s sallow countenance. The detective chuckled.

“He answers Tilton’s description of him, all right,” declared Cardona. “Mustache and all. This is the man we’ve wanted, Mr. Verne. Maybe you should have called in the law before we got here; but the way things worked out, I’ve got no kick.”

KELK began to move his lips. Cardona watched him; then, seeing that Kelk was recovering from his daze, the detective produced a pair of handcuffs and snapped them upon the prisoner’s wrists. Joe turned to Verne.

“What else can you tell us?” he asked. “Do you know anything about this manuscript that this crook was after?”

“Yes,” smiled Verne. “But first, let me ask how much you have already learned. You seem to be familiar with the Signet correspondence. Am I right in believing that you found copies of the letters among Stanton Treblaw’s files?”

“We found copies of the letters, all right,” chuckled Joe, with a wise glance toward Jurling, who was silent. “We know that you wanted that Cellini manuscript. It looks like the manuscript is all we’ve got to uncover now, outside of some small fry who worked for this fellow Kelk here.

“Give me a line on what happened before we came in. What was Kelk’s gag? Has he got the manuscript somewhere? Was he trying to dicker with you?”

“Kelk does not have the manuscript,” returned Verne. “If he and his murderers had taken it from Treblaw, they would not have attacked at Tilton’s.”

“That’s right,” agreed Joe. “Then who—”

“One moment,” interposed Verne. “I have something important to tell you; but first, let me ask you about the advertisement that appeared in yesterday’s Classic. It appeared to be from Silas Tilton, an indication that he had some manuscript of Treblaw’s.”

“And that’s why you answered it, eh?” questioned Cardona. “I’ll tell you about that ad, Mr. Verne. Commissioner Weston ordered it put in the newspaper. We figured this Signet business ought to be sifted. We were bluffing you with the ad. Then you turned around and bluffed this guy Kelk. Pretty good, all the way through.

“But if Kelk hasn’t got the manuscript, what was his idea in coming here? Did he figure it would be a good idea to bump you? He looked ready to rub you out when we blew in.”

“Kelk came here,” declared Verne, slowly, “because he believed that I might have the manuscript. After all, there was a possibility — in Kelk’s mind — that Treblaw could have actually completed his sale of the manuscript to Signet.

“From the moment that he entered, Kelk was demanding. He took the attitude that I did have the manuscript in my possession. He wanted to unlock this wardrobe trunk, believing that the manuscript might be inside.”

“I get it,” nodded Joe. He looked at Kelk, who was now sitting up, staring, as he listened. “Well, it was a long shot for him to play, but I guess he was working on the same theory that we had. Find Signet, was our motto. Hear what Signet has to say.”

A snarled chuckle from Kelk. Cardona swung about.

“HEAR what Signet has to say!” snorted Kelk. “That’s right! Hear what he has to say. Give him a chance to talk, why don’t you? Look here” — Kelk came to his feet — “there’s been too much of blundering. Like this!” — he gesticulated with the handcuffs — “Snapping these clamps on me before you’ve given me a chance to talk!”

“You’ll get your chance.” Cardona shoved Kelk back into the chair, then added, with a growl: “Don’t worry about Mr. Verne, here. He’s going to talk to us, all right, while you listen. Get it?”

“Go ahead.” Kelk chuckled as if amused. “Let Verne talk. Maybe he can tell you who has the Cellini manuscript. I’d like to hear him give that bit of information of his own accord.”

Settling back in his chair, Kelk glared at Verne in a mocking fashion, as though challenging the dapper man to talk. Verne smiled.

“Detective Cardona,” said Verne, in a sincere tone, “sometimes a man may carry bluff too far. When he does, it is often difficult to explain his actions afterward. Kelk thinks that I am in such a position.

“In a sense, I am. Nevertheless, I believe that I can handle everything to your full satisfaction. I told you that this prisoner, Kelk, bounded in here with the idea that I had the Cellini manuscript in my possession.

“Oddly, Kelk was right. I do hold the Cellini manuscript. It is where Kelk thought it was.” Verne was producing a key as he spoke. “In this wardrobe trunk. I intend to deliver that important document into your hands.” Verne started to unlock the trunk.

Kelk bounded to his feet, with a warning cry.

“Watch him!” exclaimed the prisoner. “Watch out for treachery! He may have a gun in there!”

“Sit down!” roared Cardona, again thrusting Kelk back into his chair. “Go ahead, Mr. Verne.”

Verne had unlocked the trunk. Only Jurling, gun in hand, was watchful. From the door, Jurling saw Verne dip his hand in a trunk drawer and bring out a long envelope. As Verne opened the envelope and produced a frayed document, Jurling lowered his gun and stepped eagerly forward.

“This,” declared Verne, handing the folio to Cardona, “is the missing Cellini manuscript.”

JOE began to examine the parchment-like sheets. He nodded as he read words in the Italian language. He passed the folio to Jurling — who eyed it eagerly, then shot a puzzled stare at Verne.

“He had it!” The elated cry came from Kelk, again on his feet. “He had it, as I thought! He has produced it! You fool, Verne, you fool!”

Kelk paused in his outburst to deliver a mad chuckle. Then, to Cardona, he exclaimed:

“I can talk now! Listen to me! But first unlock these bracelets. And watch Verne — at all cost — because his game is up!”

Jurling shouldered forward. Holding the manuscript in one hand, he indicated Kelk with the other. Jurling spoke steadily to Cardona.

“Let’s take the prisoner out,” he suggested. “We have the manuscript; that is proof of Mr. Verne’s bona fide status. Kelk is the man you want. Take him down to headquarters, while I go over to the commissioner’s. Verne can come with me.”

“Hold it, Cardona!” broke in Kelk. His tone was a frantic appeal. “Don’t make a blunder. I can talk now; I want to talk. I have statements to make — ones that I can prove. I can tell you my real part in this chain of circumstances.”

“We know your part, Kelk. You’re the crook behind it.”

“Not at all!” There was something firmly decisive in Kelk’s pause. “I can prove who I am. You know my right name: Tully Kelk; but I have used another title. I am Signet!”

A glower showed on Cardona’s face. Jurling snorted his disdain. Oddly, it was Montague Verne who took Kelk’s part.

“Let him try to prove that statement,” suggested the dapper man, to Cardona. “I should like to hear what he has to say. I may be able to furnish testimony of my own after Kelk has spoken.”

“But you are Signet,” put in Joe. “You’ve given us the Cellini manuscript we searched for.”

“I inserted the Signet advertisement in the Classic,” stated Verne, in interruption. “I have played the part of Signet temporarily, because I have been working in behalf of justice. But I am not actually Signet.”

“He admits it,” snapped Kelk. “Hear him? Now will you listen to me?”

Joe turned to Jurling — who looked puzzled, then began to shake his head. Again Verne intervened, pointing to Kelk’s handcuffs.

“Remove them,” he said to Cardona. “Give Kelk the chance he wants. It can do no harm.”

Verne’s request was almost an order; yet Cardona did not resent it. This sudden twist of circumstances had given Joe the inkling of a hunch. Pulling a key from his pocket, the ace unlocked Kelk’s handcuffs.

FROM beyond the inner door of Verne’s living room, a soft whisper sounded. It did not reach the ears of the tense group. That whisper — a laugh — was audible only to the personage who uttered it.

Tangled threads were loosening. Facts were coming out. Statements were to be made by men who were, themselves, puzzled. Oddly, no one in Verne’s living room knew all the truth.

For each had certain facts known to himself alone; and each had failed to fully uncover the other’s game. One living person alone could have explained it all. Only The Shadow knew!