John T. McIntyre

Detective Ashton-Kirk (Boxed-Set)


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      The man hesitated; but finally resolved upon a course and led them up a flight of stone steps and into a wide hall. The night was raw and a brisk fire of pine knots burning in an old-fashioned hall fireplace, made the place very comfortable.

      "If you will be seated, gentlemen,"requested their guide, "I will tell Dr. Mercer of your presence as soon as he has finished."

      They seated themselves obligingly in a couple of low, heavy chairs near the fire; and then the man left them. The hall was high and rather bare: the hardwood floor shone brilliantly under the lights; save for the faint murmur of voices from a near-by room, everything was still.

      "I should imagine that a place of this sort wouldn't be at all noisy,"observed Pendleton, in a heavy attempt at jocularity.

      Except for a word now and then, they waited in silence for a half hour; then a door opened and steps were heard in the hall. Both turned and saw a remarkably small man, perhaps well under five feet, dressed with great care and walking with a quick nervous step. His head was very large and partly bald, rearing above his small frame like a great, bare dome; he carried a silk hat in his hand, and peered abstractedly through spectacles of remarkable thickness.

      "Locke,"breathed Pendleton, as his heart paused for a moment and then went on with a leap.

      The little man apparently did not see them until he was almost beside them; then he paused with a start, and his eyes grew owlish behind the magnifying lenses as he strove to make them out. That he did not recognize them seemed to worry him; his thin, gray face seemed to grow grayer and thinner; with a diffident little bow he passed on and out at the front door.

      "Not a very formidable looking criminal,"commented Ashton-Kirk, quietly. "However, you can seldom judge by appearances. The most astonishing crime that ever came to my notice was perpetrated by the meekest and most conventional man I had ever seen."

      They waited for still another space, and then the man who had shown them in presented himself. He was now without the lantern, but wore a melancholy look.

      "Dr. Mercer will see you,"said he in a low voice. "He is very much vexed at being disturbed. He'll remember it against me for weeks."He appeared very much disturbed.

      Ashton-Kirk placed a coin in the speaker's hand; this seemed to have a bracing effect, for he led them into his employer's presence in a brighter frame of mind. Dr. Mercer was seated at the table in his dining-room. A napkin was tucked in his collar, his fat hands were folded across his stomach, and he was breathing heavily.

      "Gentlemen,"spoke he, rolling his eyes around to them, "I trust you will pardon my not rising. But to exert myself after dining has a most injurious result sometimes. My digestion is painfully impaired; the slightest excitement causes me the utmost suffering."

      "I appreciate the fact that we are intruding at a most inconvenient time,"said Ashton-Kirk. "And I beg of you to accept our apologies."

      The eyes of Dr. Mercer, which had the appearance of swimming in fat, were removed from his visitors, and fixed themselves longingly upon a great dish filled with a steaming, heavy-looking pudding. His breath labored in his chest as he replied:

      "The hour is somewhat unusual; but as it happens I have about finished my dinner, and if your errand is not of a stirring nature, I should be pleased to have you state it."

      The man placed chairs in such a position that the doctor would not have to stir to fully observe his visitors. This done he was about to withdraw; but his employer stopped him at the door.

      "Haines,"complained he, "you have not taken my order for breakfast."

      The man paused and seemed much abashed at his neglect.

      "I really beg your pardon, sir,"said he. And with that he produced a pencil and a small book and stood ready.

      "I will have one of those trout that I purchased to-day,"directed the doctor. "Let it be that large, fine one that I was so pleased with,"his swimming eyes ready to float out of his head with anticipation. "Then I would like some new-laid eggs, some hot cakes, and perhaps a small piece of steak, if there is any that is tender and tasty. And mind you,"in an nervous afterthought, "tell Mrs. Crane to have it but rarely done. I will not tolerate it dry and without flavor."He pondered awhile, apparently much moved by this painful possibility; then he added: "I may as well have a cereal to begin with, I suppose. And that will be all with the exception of a few slices from the cold roast and some white rolls."

      Carefully Haines had taken this down; and after he had read it over at his employer's order and noted a few alterations and additions, he departed. For a few moments the doctor's eyes were closed in expectant rapture; his breathing grew so stertorous that his callers were becoming alarmed; but he spoke at last, reluctantly, resentfully.

      "I am now ready to hear you, gentlemen, if you please. And kindly remember that I prohibit anything of an exciting nature at this time."

      "We have heard your school highly spoken of,"said Ashton-Kirk. "And have come to make some inquiries before making up our minds."

      "Ah,"breathed Dr. Mercer, solemnly, "you have an afflicted one. Too bad! Tut, tut, tut, too bad!"

      "There are many institutions of the sort,"proceeded the investigator. "But for the most part they stop at the threshold, so to speak, of knowledge."

      Dr. Mercer roused himself so far as to unclasp his hands and point with one finger at the speaker.

      "Sir,"said he, in a voice full of grave significance, "they seldom reach the threshold. A large majority of them are conducted by dishonest persons. Afflicted youth left in their charge are rarely properly directed—they rarely acquire that digital dexterity so necessary to success in their limited lives. The isolated brain, so to call it, is seldom more than half awakened. Unless it is intelligently approached, the shadows are never thoroughly dispelled."

      Here he paused, panting distressedly; his eyes were filled with reproach as he relapsed into his first attitude; and his manner was that of one who mutely begged that no further tasks be thrust upon him.

      "The difference in institutions of this type lies mainly in the methods employed, I believe,"said Ashton-Kirk.

      "In the methods—and in the persons who apply them,"replied Dr. Mercer in a smothered tone.

      "To be sure. I have heard something of your teaching staff. It is a very excellent one, is it not?"

      "The best in the world."The soft, fat, white hands of the doctor again unclasped themselves; and this time both of them were employed in a faintly traced gesture. "We employ scientists. We do not stop at what you have correctly called the threshold. We explore the entire structure of the intellect. Our Professor Locke, himself an afflicted one, is a man of vast erudition—a scholar of an advanced type, a philosopher whose adventures into the field of psychology and natural science is widely known. He has charge of the practical work of the Mercer Institute, and under him its results are positive and unique."

      "We have heard of Professor Locke,"and, drily, "have seen some of his work."

      "If you had stated your business before—ah—coming in to me,"spoke the doctor, "you might have had an opportunity of consulting him. He left for his cottage immediately after dining."

      "He does not live here, then?"

      "Not in this building—no. There is a detached cottage at the far end of the grounds which he occupies. If you'd like to see him,"and the heavy jowls of the speaker trembled with eagerness, "Haines will show you there at once."

      "If it is no trouble,"said Ashton-Kirk, smoothly.

      "Not in the least."The doctor rang for his man, and when he entered, said: "These gentlemen would like to speak to Professor Locke. Show them the way to his house. And, gentlemen,"to the callers, with anxiety, "the professor can arrange everything with you. It is my habit to nod for a half hour after dinner. My system has grown to expect it, and if I am deprived of it, I suffer considerably in consequence."

      "We will not trouble you again, doctor,"Ashton-Kirk assured him. "Thank you, and good-night."