The Mystery of the Four Fingers

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The Mystery of the Four Fingers

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Title: The Mystery of the Four Fingers
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The Mystery of the Four Fingers
BY FRED M. WHITE
Author of "THE MIDNIGHT GUEST," "THE CRIMSON BLIND,"
Etc., Etc.
1908

CONTENTS
I. THE BLACK PATCH
II. THE FIRST FINGER
III. THE LOST MINE
IV. IN THE LIFT
V. A PUZZLE FOR VENNER

VI. A PARTIAL FAILURE
VII. THE WHITE LADY
VIII. MISSING
IX. A NEW PHASE
X. THE SECOND FINGER
XI. AN UNEXPECTED MOVE
XII. THE HOUSE NEXT DOOR
XIII. THE WHITE LADY AGAIN
XIV. MASTER OF THE SITUATION
XV. FELIX ZARY
XVI. FENWICK MOVES AGAIN
XVII. MERTON GRANGE
XVIII. A COUPLE OF VISITORS
XIX. PHANTOM GOLD
XX. THE PRODIGAL'S RETURN
XXI. THE THIRD FINGER
XXII. "THE TIME WILL COME"
XXIII. SMOKED OUT
XXIV. THE MOUTH OF THE NET
XXV. AN ACT OF CHARITY

XXVI. THE LAST FINGER
XXVII. NEMESIS
XXVIII. EXPLANATIONS
XXIX. THIS MORTAL COIL
XXX. A PEACEFUL SUNSET
CHAPTER I
THE BLACK PATCH
Considering it was nearly the height of the London winter season, the
Great Empire Hotel was not unusually crowded. This might perhaps
have been owing to the fact that two or three of the finest suites of
rooms in the building had been engaged by Mark Fenwick, who was
popularly supposed to be the last thing in the way of American
multi-millionaires. No one knew precisely who Fenwick was, or how
he had made his money; but during the last few months his name had
bulked largely in the financial Press and the daily periodicals of a
sensational character. So far, the man had hardly been seen, it being
understood that he was suffering from a chill, contracted on his voyage
to Europe. Up to the present moment he had taken all his meals in his
rooms, but it was whispered now that the great man was coming down
to dinner. There was quite a flutter of excitement in the Venetian
dining-room about eight o'clock.
The beautifully decorated saloon had a sprinkling of well-dressed men
and women already dining decorously there. Everything was decorous
about the Great Empire Hotel. No thought had been spared in the effort
to keep the place quiet and select. The carpets were extra thick, and the
waiters more than usually soft-footed. On the whole, it was a restful
place, though, perhaps, the decorative scheme of its lighting erred just a
trifle on the side of the sombre. Still, flowers and ferns were soft and
feathery. The band played just loudly enough to stimulate conversation
instead of drowning it. At one of the little tables near the door two men

were dining. One had the alertness and vigor which bespeaks the
dweller in towns. He was neatly groomed, with just the slight suspicion
of the dandy in his dress, though it was obvious at the merest glance
that he was a gentleman. His short, sleek hair gave to his head a certain
suggestion of strength. The eyes which gleamed behind his
gold-rimmed glasses were keen and steady. Most men about town were
acquainted with the name of Jim Gurdon, as a generation before had
been acquainted with his prowess in the athletic field. Now he was a
successful barrister, though his ample private means rendered
professional work quite unnecessary.
The other man was taller, and more loose-limbed, though his spare
frame suggested great physical strength. He was dark in a hawk-like
way, though the suggestion of the adventurer about him