XII.

As the date set in the mysterious communications from X. drew near, the preparations on the part of Wilbur Gaylord and his able assistant proceeded briskly and to the entire satisfaction of the banker. Money was spent like water.

Hundreds of officers, ordered to report for unknown and hazardous duty on the evening of January 18, bound to secrecy by the promise of substantial reward, were mobilized and, under the manipulation of John Keller, were so disposed that their presence would not excite comment until it was too late to matter. Each held specific instructions to be at a certain point at a certain hour, when he would be advised as to his subsequent duties.

Keller grunted with satisfaction when he was assured of enough men to cover every mile of highway between Boston and New York.

Bundles containing folded newspapers and attached to small parachutes were in readiness, electric lights already in place. The machine chosen, a swift Taggart monoplane, was to be piloted by one Hart Creighton, an expert mail pilot.

The stage was beautifully set for the reception of Mr. Starbuck’s lieutenants.

Meantime, Count Markowski busied himself with a multitude of details, which included disposal of motor cars which were to be changed twice as a precautionary measure. Also, there was the matter of engaging passage for Europe when a certain trunk, already purchased, should be ready to convey Wilbur Gaylord’s million dollars to a European port.

Count Markowski, it must be owned, was highly nervous, which is not to be wondered at. But it was not the mere responsibility of carrying out his part of the program that beset him; he was waiting for an important message which would be received on the morning of January 18. He could not really be definite about anything until then.

And, sure enough, on the morning of the 18th the expected wire, nicely disguised, to be sure, arrived. The count then knew where he was at, and took steps accordingly.

Dimes and Rolphs chuckled when the count told them of the final arrangements. And if Wilbur Gaylord could have been present at that conference, he would have been less surprised and upset over certain events which occurred that same evening.

At any rate, after their talk, Markowski, Dimes, and Rolphs separated to meet again under circumstances they little dreamed of.

Most of that fatal day Wilbur Gaylord spent in fuming. He was like a condemned person who, having said his last good-byes, chafes over the delay in springing the trap. Keller was at his elbow when he could spare the time from numerous telephone calls.

He was confident that his plans would succeed, and that is why he, too, was thrown completely off his balance when at eight o’clock that night Starbuck, from his distant vantage-point, threw a veritable bombshell.

It was simple indeed, in itself a tribute to the master criminal’s shrewdness.

A code message which was promptly relayed to Gaylord and which contained the following curt and disconcerting orders:

GAYLORD, PHILADELPHIA:

Kindly change this evening’s route. After leaving Mitchel Field, your pilot will proceed to New York City, Yonkers, Tarrytown, Poughkeepsie, Albany, Schenectady, Syracuse, Rochester and Buffalo. Other conditions remain as before.

X.

Gaylord stared at the paper.

“Keller,” Gaylord bellowed, “what do you think of that?”

“Barring the hard luck it means for us, I’d say it was damned smart of the gent, whoever he may be. Now we are in the soup. It’s impossible to change our plans now, and your money will be thrown away.”

“To hell with my money! This swine thinks he has us beaten. I’ll show him, by Christmas!”

He paced the room like a wild man for a few moments. Then, without consulting Keller, he called the Secretary of War in Washington; after that, the Secretary of the Navy. His conversations, in both cases, were brief and to the point, and they ended satisfactorily, it seemed.

Keller listened in amazement.

“Gawd!” he breathed. “Do you think you can manage it, sir? Will they understand the importance of the time element?”

“They will have their orders. We shall have to rely upon them. I think they will come through. All we can do now is wait.”

He bit savagely into another cigar, faced Keller defiantly as if challenging him to something or other.