"
"Thank you, Miss Dodge," continued Kennedy, laying down the
pencil. "Yes, I understand perfectly--signed by that same
Clutching Hand. Let me see," he pondered, looking at his watch.
"It is now just about half past eleven. Very well. I shall meet
you and Miss Martin at Mr. Martin's store directly."
It lacked five minutes of noon when Kennedy and I dashed up before
Martin's and dismissed our taxi-cab.
A remarkable scene greeted us as we entered the famous jewelry
shop. Involuntarily I drew back. Squarely in front of us a man had
suddenly raised a revolver and leveled it at us.
"Don't!" cried a familiar voice. "That is Mr. Kennedy!"
Just then, from a little knot of people, Elaine Dodge sprang
forward with a cry and seized the gun.
Kennedy turned to her, apparently not half so much concerned about
the automatic that yawned at him as about the anxiety of the
pretty girl who had intervened. The too eager plainclothesman
lowered the gun sheepishly.
Sturtevant Martin was a typical society business man, quietly but
richly dressed. He was inclined to be pompous and affected a pair
of rather distinguished looking side whiskers.
In the excitement I glanced about hurriedly. There were two or
three policemen in the shop and several plainclothesmen, some
armed with formidable looking sawed-off shot guns.
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