R. STOPFORD, senior surgeon of the Atlantic flyer Ruritania, stared aimlessly at the small rimless monocle which he held between finger and thumb. His tall, slim figure showed silhouetted against the window. Outside dusk was falling.
“Look here, Roscoe,” said he, “owin' to my quixotic interest in your blameless young life, I've missed my ship, been shot at by some bloke who controls somethin' vaguely called the Zones, and now find myself incarcerated in an astonishin' mansion belongin' to an amiable millionaire. I gather that our Zone pals are congregatin' in the dark. I assume that one couldn't throw a stone from any window without hittin' a couple of Zones! Splendid! But what are we doin' here, and what are we goin' to get out of it?”
The man addressed, a dim shadow over by the closed door, did not immediately answer. Stopford set the monocle in place before one blue eye, where it instantly and miraculously became attached.
“Here's the answer, old lad,” came the reply. “The house of Page Sutton, in which we are, is at present the focus of all the forces of Head Center—of all the Zones.”
“Cheery-O!”
Roscoe advanced into the failing light which struggled through the window. Three inches shorter than Stopford, but sturdy and agile as an acrobat, his wide-open gray eyes were set unfalteringly upon the face of his friend. When Commander Drake Roscoe smiled his tanned features looked like those of a healthy schoolboy. But he was not smiling. “This conference must be a short one,” he went on. “I've snatched the chance because I want you to know all I know—”
“Splendid fellow!”
“Page Sutton has been a victim of the Zone group for years. He has been one of their many sources of income. They have lost their hold on him. He's stopped payments, and they've tried intimidation. He's countered through Ned Regan, and now has locked in his safe upstairs something which cost him twenty thousand dollars but which, if genuine, is worth ten times the price. That's why we're here.”
“Absolutely,” Stopford murmured. “Painfully, distressin'ly obvious. But I rather gather, old scout, that that's also why they are here—I mean the blokes who've tried to shoot Page Sutton. Flocks of wolf dogs will shortly be loose on this pleasant property. There are prisonlike shutters to all windows; a depressin' atmosphere—”
“Stoppy,” Roscoe interrupted, “we're in for a wild night! I'm sorry, because there are women in the house—”
“Particularly Molly O'Hay.”
“Maybe! But there are others!”
Stopford groaned.
“Extraordinary thing, Madame Czerna's turnin' up here,” he muttered. “Certainly the car broke down, but why outside this blighted house? And why tonight?”
“There's just time to tell ?ou something else,” Roscoe went on quickly. “Sutton's daughter, June, was the victim of a queer attempt some few nights back.”
“June Sutton! What's she got to do with it?”
“I don't know. But shut up. Listen. She was in the first place wakened by the dogs, then they became silent. Next she detected a faint sound that seemed to come from under the pillow. Finally something—she doesn't know what—ran across the bed....”
“You're alarmin' me.”
“It alarmed her! She bolted out and along to the housekeeper, Mrs. Dean. They came back together.”
“Find anything?”
“Not anything living. Of course the window was wide open. But under the pillow they found a small wooden reel, of the sort used for silk or cotton, fixed there by a piece of twisted wire!”
Stopford stared vaguely into the darkness masking the speaker.
“Not a glimmer,” he declared. “Means precisely nothin' to me.”
“No,” Roscoe murmured. “I admit it's obscure. But it may turn out to mean a devil of a lot to me.”
N a room far distant from the Page Sutton country home, high in the center of New York, a dark room, its darkness masking the presence of a more formidable creature than the United States had hitherto entertained, a red light glowed.
“H. Q.,” said a voice. “Report of Zone Officer 2A. Commander Roscoe has been allotted a room at the rear of the Page Sutton home. Zone Officer 2A requested Page Sutton to arrange an exchange, as the barking of dogs always disturbs her. Transfer is being made. Roscoe will now face the lawn. Timed 10 o'clock. Report ends.”
“Report of Group Master inside the Sutton home.”