McAllister and His Double

isitors' room. Didn't have a car

er look upon his face that did not escape McAllister as the latter glanc

ng upon him a day like this, when there wasn't even a cab in sight and the policemen had sought sanct

y, sir?" continu

ry events at the Blairs' the night before, yet vaguely McAllister felt that this stranger must in some mysterious way be conne

n, or perhaps a reporter. Without hesitation he crossed the marble hall and parted the porti

s!" he

f rain streamed from his cuffs, his (McAllister's) coat-tails, and from the brim of his master's hat, which he held deprecatingly

e! They're right hafter me! Just hou

at him horrifie

, so I 'id in a harea all night. This mornin' I thought I'd given 'im the slip, but I walked square into 'im on Fiftieth Street. I took it on a run hup Sixth Havenue, doubled 'round a truc

ommotion at the door of the club, and he re

ve Bureau. You've just passed in a burglar.

k back toward

ed his foot behind the door in such a position that the

a private club, like this? I'll telephone the Inspe

nothin'!

u got a

d his adversary seized the opportunity to close the door. The

the officer out much longer. It's only a

eter," answer

en so as to guard both exits from the club. McAllister's breath came fast. Wilkins cro

coat and hat, give me a check for them, and then show

ut emotion, as he removed Wilkins's d

at his former master, the valet

ned to the big room. "How am I ever going to get rid

rfecto, and sank again into his

doorman, suddenly appearing at his elbow. "Says

e devil, but then he thought better of it. He had beaten Conville once, and he would do so a

o sit down-that I've just come in, a

ir," answered

n accessory after the fact, as it were. The idea did not increase his happiness at all. His one experience in the Tombs, however adventitious, had been quite su

sir, and wants to know can you see him at

med our hero. "Ye

on, held the portières open. He entered, prepared for the worst. As he did so, Conville sprang to his feet,

, the crook, who ran in here a few moments ago? Oh, he's here fast eno

monocle, smiled affably, and sa

ittle nip of something warm? No? A cigar, then. Here, Peter, bri

mself at a disadvantage by giving way to useless emotion. When Peter returned with the cigar, Ba

ght, I admit-that is, so far as your identity was concerned. You're a real high-roller, all right, but that

-and-seek around the bas

" he finally mana

ht here in this club? You're aiding in the escape of a felon. That's felony. You know that yourself. Besides, when you locke

r laughed

u were crazy all the time, and now I kno

the ashes off his

e's Welch-Fatty Welch, that r

sumed a puzzl

the L at Fiftieth Street, footed it pretty fast up Sixth Avenue, and then thr

e!" shouted Conville. "You can't catch me t

n't bel

sed the bell an

how many persons have come i

tation. "Your clothes was wringin' wet, sir. No o

me in," he added cunningly, "suppose you show me

equanimity, as he drew Wilkins's check from his pocket. "He

o the coat-room, and returned with the dripping ga

r, and my own inside the breast-pocket," remark

ack and made a rapid inspection, then turned to

ow-" he

tormentor, "that there was a big t

set his

"Well, what more can I do for you? A

ing. Stepping up to the clubman, he l

winner. But I know you. I know your face. And this time I don't lose you, see? You're in caho

ive made f

. Then his nonchalant look gave place to one of extreme dejection.

ed information that "Mr. Lloyd-Jones"

said Peter, trying hard

eter followed. Of course, he had known Wilki

13, sir," remark

ere visible, and the quilt was pulled well up around h

s hafraid to come down, sir. Without my c

you done with 'em?

uldn't think o' nothin' else, so I just thr

ad lingered by the door, choked v

never took you for a fool before!

re winner. But I know

't kno

on McAllister. "I'm liable to arrest for aidin' in your escape. In

shall I do? If you honly get me haway

, sat down by the bed, and

length. "Wilkins, you rememb

," sighed

clock train for Boston. Here's a ticket, and the check for the drawing-room. You'll be Mr. McAllister of the Colophon Club, if anyone speaks to you. You're going on to Mr. Cabot's wedding

sir," murm

r the clothes at once. Do

ank you, sir! I'll be t

ood luck

about nine o'clock. Conville would never recognize him in doublet and hose, and, when Wilkins departed at eleven-forty, would in all likelihood take the latter for McAllister. If he could thus get rid of his ex-valet for good and all it