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Title: Ashton-Kirk, Secret Agent

Author: John T. McIntyre

Illustrator: Ralph L. Boyer

Release date: June 7, 2012 [eBook #39940]

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ASHTON-KIRK,

SECRET AGENT ***
HE TOOK UP THE ENVELOPE
ASHTON-KIRK
SECRET AGENT
BY
 John T. McIntyre
Author of "Ashton-Kirk Investigator," &c.

ILLUSTRATIONS BY

RALPH L. BOYER

THE PENN PUBLISHING

COMPANY PHILADELPHIA

1912

COPYRIGHT

1912 BY

THE PENN

PUBLISHING

COMPANY

To
Helen Ray
 Introduction
Those who have read "Ashton-Kirk, Investigator" will recall
references to several affairs in which the United States government
found the investigator's unusual powers of inestimable service. In
such matters, tremendous interests often stand dangerously
balanced, and the most delicate touch is required if they are not to
be sent toppling. As Ashton-Kirk has said:
"When a crisis arises between two of the giant modern nations, with
their vast armies, their swift fleets, their dreadful engines of war, the
hands which control their affairs must be steady, secret, and sure.
Otherwise an unthinkable horror might be brought about."
It frequently happens that such a crisis arises, the issue is joined
and fought out to the bitter end, and the watchful public press never
gets even a hint of it. Indeed, if the secret archives of the nations
were thrown open for inspection, a long series of appalling dangers
would be shown to have been passed by each—dangers arising from
small and apparently remote things, but capable of swift and deadly
growth.
Experience, steady courage, and sure talent are required in dealing
with such things; and these qualities Ashton-Kirk possesses in
abundance. To be sure, the departments of the government have
the "Secret Service" at their hand; but the specialist is called in when
the general practitioner is at a loss, and he is as much a part of the
structure as his regularly employed colleague.
The adventure of the present story is only one of many to be told of
Ashton-Kirk.
 CONTENTS
I. Some Peculiar Circumstances
II. Ashton-Kirk Goes to Eastbury
III. An International Affair
IV. The Taking Off of Dr. Morse
V. The Hound Strikes the Trail
VI. The Visit of Okiu
VII. The Methylene Stain
VIII. The House on Fordham Road
IX. Okiu Once More
X. Some Startling Intelligence
XI. A Ray of Light
XII. Karkowsky Gets Some Attention
XIII. Old Nanon Speaks
XIV. Okiu Writes a Letter
XV. Almost!
XVI. In the Dark
XVII. The Silhouettes
XVIII. Gone!
XIX. The Taxi-cab
XX. Fresh Developments
XXI. The Man With the Decoration
XXII. The German Embassy Ball
XXIII. What Von Stunnenberg Thought
XXIV. Surprised!
XXV. Caught!
 XXVI. The Truth
XXVII. Conclusion
 Illustrations
He Took Up the Envelope
"Who Brought the News?"
The Glittering Eyes Lifted
"My Time is Short"
 CHAPTER I
Some Peculiar Circumstances

Fuller studied the heavy, decided signature at the bottom of the

typed page; then he laid the letter upon the table.
"One who judges character by handwriting," said he, "would
probably think the secretary a strong man."
Ashton-Kirk took the stem of the long German pipe from between
his lips.
"From your tone," said he, "you do not so consider him."
Fuller was looking down at the letter.
"With that looking me in the face, how can I? Here is a matter of
tremendous importance—one of the most guarded secrets of the
government is endangered. Yesterday, in what was undoubtedly a
panic, he wired you, begging help. Then, almost immediately after,
he weakens and writes, requesting you to do nothing."
Thick clouds arose from the Coblentz; the smoker snuggled down
into the big chair luxuriously.
"And from these things," said he, "you draw that he lacks force?"
"Yes; he quit before even catching a glimpse of the end."
There was a moment's silence, and then the secret agent spoke.
"There are times," remarked he, "when it is not altogether desirable
to catch that glimpse." He blew out a veil of smoke and watched it
idly for a moment. "It is possible, in pushing a thing to the end," he
added, "to force an entirely unexpected result. Take for example the
case of the Molineux chaplet, some little time since. Could there
have been more fire, more determination than that exhibited by old
Colonel Molineux in this room when he brought the matter to our
attention? And yet, when I showed him that his own daughter was
the thief, he instantly subsided."
Fuller regarded his employer with questioning eyes.
"You think, then, that some one concerned in the government has
been found out as——"
But the other stopped him.
"Sometimes," said he, "we are even more anxious to spare an
enemy than a friend. And the reason usually is that we do not care
to force the said enemy into such a position that his only resource
would be an open blow."
"Ah!" Fuller's eyes widened. "They hesitate because they fear to
bring about a war." He looked at the secret agent, the question in his
face growing. "But with whom?"
Ashton-Kirk put aside the pipe and got up.
"For years," said he, "the specialists of the Navy Department have
been secretly working upon a gun designed to throw a tremendous
explosive. That it was delicate work was shown by the quality of the
men employed upon it; and that it was dangerous was proven by the
lives lost from time to time in the experiments. Six months ago the
invention was completed. The news leaked out, and naturally the
powers were interested. Then to the dismay of the heads of the
department it was learned that a most formidable plan to obtain
possession of the secret had been balked by the merest chance. The
agents of the government were at once put to work; not satisfied
with this, the secretary wired me to come to Washington at once.
But I was in no haste to do so, because I foresaw what would
happen."
The questioning look in Fuller's eyes increased.
"I knew that the agents of a foreign government laid the plan,"
proceeded Ashton-Kirk. "Who else would desire information upon
such a point? And at this time there is but one government
sufficiently interested in us to go so far."
"You mean——"
Ashton-Kirk yawned widely and then asked:
"Have you seen the morning papers?"
"Yes."
"Perhaps you noticed a speech by Crosby, the Californian, in
Congress. Rather a slashing affair. He continues to demand a
permanent fleet for the Pacific and increased coast defenses."
The windows were open; the high-pitched complaint from the mean
street drifted up and into the room. A bar of sunlight shot between
two up-rearing brick bulks across the way; it glittered among the
racks of polished instruments, slipped along the shelves of books
and entered at the door of the laboratory; here the vari-colored
chemicals sparkled in their round-bellied prisons; the grotesque
retorts gleamed in swollen satisfaction.
A knock came upon the door, and Stumph, Ashton-Kirk's grave-faced
man servant, entered with a card.
"It is the gentleman who called yesterday while you were out," said
Stumph.
The secret agent took the card and read:
"Mr. Philip Warwick."
"He asked me to say," proceeded Stumph, "that his business is
urgent and important."
"Let him come up."
Stumph went out. Fuller began fingering a packet of documents
which he took from the table.
"I suppose," said he, "that I may as well file these Schofield-
Dempster papers away."
"Yes, the matter is finished, so far as we are concerned. It was
interesting at first, but I'm rather glad to be rid of it. The piquancy
of the situation was lost when the 'forgeries' were found to have
been no forgeries at all; and the family despair is a trifle trying."
"Mr. Philip Warwick," said the low voice of Stumph, a few moments
later.
A big, square-shouldered young man entered the room; he had
thick, light colored hair and wide open blue eyes. That he was an
Englishman was unmistakable. For a moment he seemed in doubt as
to whom he should address; but Fuller indicated his employer and
the caller bowed his thanks.
"Sir," said he, "if I am intruding, I ask your pardon. I was directed to
you by Professor Hutchinson of Hampden College, with whom I have
become acquainted through our mutual interest in the Oriental
languages."
"Ah, yes. Hutchinson is a very old friend of mine, a splendid fellow,
and a fine judge of tobacco. Will you sit down?"
"Thank you."
Mr. Philip Warwick sat down, and looked very big and strong and ill
at ease. There was a perplexed expression upon his handsome face;
but he said, quietly enough:
"I take this occasion, Mr. Ashton-Kirk, to express my appreciation of
your book upon the Lithuanian language. I spent some years in the
Baltic provinces, and am fairly familiar with the tongue."
Ashton-Kirk smiled, well pleased.
"A number of people have been good enough to notice that little
book," said he, "though when I wrote it I did not expect it to get
beyond my own circle. You see, the Lithuanians have grown rather
thick in this section of the city; and the great similarity between their
language and the Sanskrit interested me."
"The work," said the young Englishman, "is very complete. But," and
his voice lowered a trifle, "much as I am delighted with it, still, that
is not why I have ventured to call upon you."
"No?" The secret agent settled himself in the big chair; his singular
eyes studied the visitor with interest. Fuller having finished with the
papers at the table now asked:
"Will you need me?"
"Perhaps."
The assistant thereupon sat down, took out a pencil and laid a pad
of paper upon his knee. Philip Warwick shifted uneasily in his chair;
his powerful fingers clasped and unclasped nervously.
"Professor Hutchinson informs me," said he, "that you take an
interest in those problems which spring up unexpectedly and
confound the inexperienced. Have I been correctly informed?"
The secret agent nodded.
"Am I to understand that you have brought me such a problem?" he
asked.
The visitor bent forward a trifle.
"Perhaps," he said, "it will prove no problem to you. It may be, to
some extent, that our imaginations have been playing tricks upon
us. But, however that may be, the whole matter is utterly beyond
our comprehension. I have done what I can to get to the bottom of
it and failed. If you will be kind enough to hear and advise me, I
shall be profoundly grateful."
Ashton-Kirk gestured for him to go on.
"The affair," began the young Englishman, "is not my own, but that
of my employer, Dr. Simon Morse." He caught the look in the eyes of
the secret agent, and added: "No doubt you have heard of him; his
theories attracted wide attention some time ago."
"I recall him very well," said Ashton-Kirk. "A sort of scientific
anarchist, if I'm not mistaken; he had many daring ideas and
considerable hardihood in their expression."
"Any sort of government, human or divine, has in him an outspoken
enemy," said Warwick. "I know him to be a man of great learning
and splendid ability, but somewhere in his brain there is a something
which nullifies it all."
"You say the matter regarding which you came to see me is that of
Dr. Morse. Did he ask you to come?"
"No, no," young Warwick held up his hand, hastily. "He knows
nothing of it; and I much prefer that he should not. You see, he is a
man of peculiar temperament. He is very silent and secretive
regarding his private affairs; also he has," drily, "a somewhat violent
temper."
"You picture a rather unpleasant character."
"But I do him no injustice," protested the young Englishman.
"Frankly, he is not at all my sort; and I should not remain with him a
day, were it not for Stella—Miss Corbin."
"I see."
"She is his niece—the only child of a younger sister; and the things
which I am about to relate have caused her much alarm. She fears
that some strange danger threatens him. He has always been kind
to her, and she is very much attached to him.
"Dr. Morse is an Englishman and a graduate in medicine; but having
large means has given but little time to the practice of his
profession. As his published works have shown, he detests all
governments; however, that of Russia has always been his pet
aversion. He has declared it the most corrupt system extant, and
maintained that not a patriotic pulse was to be found among the
ruling class throughout the vast empire. Its mighty army, he
predicted, would crumble before the first determined foe.
"When the war broke out between Japan and Russia, Dr. Morse at
once placed his niece in safe hands; then he disappeared for more
than a year. Upon his return it was learned that he had, somehow,
managed to have himself enrolled upon the medical staff of the