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medicine to cure the cocaine habit。 Needham found the cure was no cure; 

but   cocaine   disguised。   He   sued   for   his   money;   and   during   the   trial   the 

police brought in Prothero's record。 Needham let me copy it; and it seems 

to embrace every crime except treason。 The man is a Russian Jew。 He was 

arrested   and   prosecuted   in   Warsaw;   Vienna;   Berlin;   Belgrade;   all   over 

Europe;   until   finally   the   police   drove   him   to America。   There   he   was   an 

editor   of   an   anarchist   paper;   a   blackmailer;   a   'doctor'   of   hypnotism;   a 

clairvoyant; and a professional bigamist。 His game was to open rooms as a 

clairvoyant; and advise silly women how to invest their money。 When he 

found out which of them had the most money; he would marry her; take 

over her fortune; and skip。 In Chicago; he was tried for poisoning one wife; 

and the trial brought out the fact that two others had died under suspicious 

circumstances; and that there were three more unpoisoned but anxious to 

get   back   their   money。   He   was   sentenced   to   ten   years   for   bigamy;   but 

pardoned   because   he   was   supposed   to   be   insane;   and   dying。   Instead   of 

dying; he opened a sanatorium in New York to cure victims of the drug 

habit。   In   reality;   it   was   a   sort   of   high…priced   opium…den。   The   place   was 

raided; and he jumped his bail and came to this country。 Now he is running 

this    private    hospital    in  Sowell     Street。   Needham       says    it's  a  secret 

rendezvous for dope fiends。 But they are very high…class dope fiends; who 

are willing to pay for seclusion; and the police can't get at him。 I may add 

that he's tall and muscular; with a big black beard; and hands that could 

strangle a bull。 In Chicago; during the poison trial; the newspapers called 

him 'the Modern Bluebeard。〃' 

     For a   short time   Ford   was   silent。   But; in   the dark   corner   of   the   cab; 

Cuthbert could see that his cigar was burning briskly。 



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     〃Your friend   seems a   nice chap;〃   said Ford   at last。   〃 Calling   on   him 

will be a real pleasure。 I especially like what you say about his hands。〃 

     〃I have a plan;〃 began the assistant timidly; 〃a plan to get you into the 

house…if you don't mind my making suggestions?〃 

     〃Not at all!〃 exclaimed his chief heartily。 

     〃Get me into the house by all means; that's what we're here for。 The 

fact that I'm to be poisoned or strangled after I get there mustn't discourage 

us。'〃 

     〃I thought;〃 said Cuthbert; 〃I might stand guard outside; while you got 

in as a dope fiend。〃 

     Ford     snorted    indignantly。     〃Do    I  LOOK       like  a   dope    fiend?〃    he 

protested。 

     The voice of the assistant was one of discouragement。 

     〃You certainly do not;〃 he exclaimed regretfulIy。 〃But it's the only plan 

I could think of。〃 

     〃It   seems   to   me;〃   said   his   chief   testily;   〃that   you   are   not   so  very 

healthy…looking yourself。 What's the matter with YOUR getting inside as a 

dope fiend and MY standing guard?〃 

     〃But I  wouldn't know what   to   do after  I got inside;〃   complained   the 

assistant; 〃and you would。 You are so clever。〃 

     The expression of confidence seemed to flatter Ford。 

     〃I might do this;〃   he said。 〃I   might pretend   I   was recovering   from  a 

heavy spree; and ask to be taken care of until I am sober。 Or I could be a 

very   good   imitation   of   a   man   on   the   edge   of   a   nervous   breakdown。   I 

haven't   been   five   years   in   the   newspaper   business   without   knowing   all 

there is to know about nerves。 That's it!〃 he cried。 〃I will do that! And if 

Mr。 Bluebeard Svengali; the Strangler of Paris person; won't take me in as 

a patient; we'll come back with a couple of axes and BREAK in。 But we'll 

try   the   nervous   breakdown   first;   and   we'll   try   it   now。   I   will   be   a   naval 

officer;〃 declared Ford。 〃I made the round…the…world cruise with our fleet 

as a correspondent; and I know enough sea slang to fool a medical man。 I 

am   a   naval   officer   whose   nerves   have   gone   wrong。   I   have   heard   of   his 

sanatorium through〃 〃How;〃 asked Ford sharply; 〃have I heard of his 

sanatorium?〃 



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     〃You     saw   his   advertisement     in   the  DAILY      WORLD;〃        prompted 

Cuthbert。 〃'Home of convalescents; mental and nervous troubles cured。'〃 

     〃And;〃 continued Ford; 〃I have come to him for rest and treatment。 My 

name is Lieutenant Henry Grant。 I arrived in London two weeks ago on 

the MAURETANIA。 But my name was not on the passenger…list; because 

I did not want the Navy Department to know I was taking my leave abroad。 

I   have   been    stopping    at  my   own    address    in  Jermyn    Street;   and   my 

references are yourself; the Embassy; and my landlord。 You will telephone 

him at once that; if any one asks after Henry Grant; he is to say what you 

tell him to say。 And if any one sends for Henry Grant's clothes; he is to 

send MY clothes。〃 

     〃But    you   don't  expect    to  be  in  there   as  long  as   that?〃  exclaimed 

Cuthbert。 

     〃I do not;〃 said Ford。 〃But; if he takes me in; I must make a bluff of 

sending for my things。 No; either I will be turned out in five minutes; or if 

he accepts me as a patient I will be there until midnight。 If I cannot get the 

girl out of the house by midnight; it will mean that I can't get out myself; 

and you had better bring the police and the coroner。〃 

     〃Do you mean it?〃 asked Cuthbert。 

     〃I most certainly do!〃 exclaimed Ford。 

     Until twelve I want a chance to get this story exclusively for our paper。 

If she is not free by then it means I have fallen down on it; and you and the 

police are to begin to batter in the doors。〃 

     The two young men left the cab; and at some distance from each other 

walked to Sowell Street。 At the house of Dr。 Prothero; Ford stopped and 

rang the bell。 From across the street Cuthbert saw the door open and the 

figure    of  a  man    of  almost   gigantic    stature  block   the   doorway。    For   a 

moment he stood there; and then Cuthbert saw him step to one side; saw 

Ford enter the house and the door close upon him。 Cuthbert at once ran to 

a telephone; and; having instructed Ford's landlord as to the part he was to 

play;   returned   to   Sowell   Street。   There;   in   a   state   nearly   approaching   a 

genuine nervous breakdown; he continued his vigil。 

     Even   without   his   criminal   record   to   cast   a   glamour   over   him;   Ford 

would     have    found    Dr。   Prothero;    a  disturbing    person。    His   size   was 



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enormous; his eyes piercing; sinister; unblinking; and the hands that could 

strangle a bull; and with which as though to control himself; he continually 

pulled   at   his   black   beard;   were  gigantic;  of   a deadly  white;  with   fingers 

long and prehensile。 In his manner he had all the suave insolence of the 

Oriental and the suspicious alertness of one constantly on guard; but also; 

as Ford at once noted; of one wholly without fear。 He had not been over a 

moment in his presence before the reporter felt that to successfully lie to 

such a man might be counted as a triumph。 

     Prothero opened the door into a little office leading off the hall; and 

switched on the electric lights。 For some short time; without any effort to 

conceal his suspicion; he stared at Ford in silence。 

     〃Well?〃 he said; at last。 His tone was a challenge。 

     Ford had already given his assumed name and profession; and he now 

ran   glibly   into   the   story   he   had   planned。   He   opened   his   card…case   and 

looked into it doubtfully。 〃I find I have no card with me;〃 he said; but I am; 

as I told you; Lieutenant Grant; of the United States Navy。 I am all right 

physically; except for my nerves。 They've played me a queer trick。 If the 

facts get out at home; it might cost me my commission。 So I've come over 

here for treatment。〃 

     〃Why to ME?〃 asked Prothero。 

     〃I saw by your advertisement;〃 said the reporter; 〃that you treated for 

nervous mental troubles。 Mine is an illusion;〃 he went on。 〃I see things; or; 

rather; always one thing…a battle…ship coming at us head on。 For the last 

year     I've   been    executive      officer    of   the   KEARSARGE;            and    the 

responsibility has been too much for me。〃 

     〃You see a battle…ship

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