The Frame Up | Page 4

testify. And we won't be hundred
yards away. And," he added grudgingly, "you have Nolan."
Nolan was the spoiled child of 'the office.' He was the district attorney's
pet. Although still young, he had scored as a detective and as a driver
of racing-cars. As Wharton's chauffeur he now doubled the parts.
"What Nolan testified wouldn't be any help," said Wharton. "They
would say it was just a story he invented to save me."
"Then square yourself this way," urged Rumson. "Send a note now by

hand to Ham Cutler and one to your sister. Tell them you're going to
Ida Earle's--and why--tell them you're afraid it's a frame-up, and for
them to keep your notes as evidence. And enclose the one from her."
Wharton nodded in approval, and, while he wrote, Rumson and the
detective planned how, without those inside the road- house being
aware of their presence, they might be near it.
Kessler's Cafe lay in the Seventy-ninth Police Precinct. In taxi-cabs
they arranged to start at once and proceed down White Plains Avenue,
which parallels the Boston Road, until they were on a line with
Kessler's, but from it hidden by the woods and the garages. A walk of a
quarter of a mile across lots and under cover of the trees would bring
them to within a hundred yards of the house.
Wharton was to give them a start of half an hour. That he might know
they were on watch, they agreed, after they dismissed the taxi-cabs, to
send one of them into the Boston Post Road past the road-house. When
it was directly in front of the cafe, the chauffeur would throw away into
the road an empty cigarette-case.
From the cigar-stand they selected a cigarette box of a startling yellow.
At half a mile it was conspicuous.
"When you see this in the road," explained Rumson, "you'll know we're
on the job. And after you're inside, if you need us, you've only to go to
a rear window and wave."
"If they mean to do him up," growled Bissell, "he won't get to a rear
window."
"He can always tell them we're outside," said Rumson----"and they are
extremely likely to believe him. Do you want a gun?"
"No," said the D. A.
"Better have mine,"' urged Hewitt.

"I have my own," explained the D. A.
Rumson and Hewitt set off in taxi-cabs and, a half-hour later, Wharton
followed. As he sank back against the cushions of the big touring-car
he felt a pleasing thrill of excitement, and as he passed the traffic police,
and they saluted mechanically, he smiled. Had they guessed his errand
their interest in his progress would have been less perfunctory. In half
an hour he might know that the police killed Banf; in half an hour he
himself might walk into a trap they had, in turn, staged for him. As the
car ran swiftly through the clean October air, and the wind and sun
alternately chilled and warmed his blood, Wharton considered these
possibilities.
He could not believe the woman Earle would lend herself to any plot to
do him bodily harm. She was a responsible person. In her own world
she was as important a figure as was the district attorney in his. Her
allies were the man "higher up " in Tammany and the police of the
upper ranks of the uniformed force. And of the higher office of the
district attorney she possessed an intimate and respectful knowledge. It
was not to be considered that against the prosecuting attorney such a
woman would wage war. So the thought that upon his person any
assault was meditated Wharton dismissed as unintelligent. That it was
upon his reputation the attack was planned seemed much more
probable. But that contingency he had foreseen and so, he believed,
forestalled. There then remained only the possibility that the offer in
the letter was genuine. It seemed quite too good to be true. For, as he
asked himself, on the very eve of an election, why should Tammany, or
a friend of Tammany, place in his possession the information that to the
Tammany candidate would bring inevitable defeat. He felt that the way
they were playing into his hands was too open, too generous. If their
object was to lead him into a trap, of all baits they might use the
promise to tell him who killed Banf was the one certain to attract him.
It made their invitation to walk into the parlor almost too obvious. But
were the offer not genuine, there was a condition attached to it that
puzzled him. It was not the condition that stipulated he should come
alone. His experience had taught him many will confess, or betray, to
the district attorney who, to a deputy, will