Thus Kitty viewed Cutty's activities with a thrill of amazed wonder. Had

the young man hoisted Cutty to his shoulders her feeling would have been

one of exultant admiration. Let age crown its garnered wisdom; youth has

no objections to that; but feats of physical strength--that is poaching

upon youth's preserves. Kitty was not conscious of the instinctive

resentment. At that moment Cutty was to her the most extraordinary old

man in the world.

"Forward!" he whispered. "I want to know why I am doing this movie

stunt." The journey began with Kitty in the lead. She prayed that no one

would see them as they passed the two landing windows. Below and above

were vivid squares of golden light. She regretted the drizzle; no

clothes-laden lines intervened to obscure their progress. Someone in

the rear of the houses in Seventy-ninth Street might observe the

silhouettes. The whole affair must be carried off secretly or their

efforts would come to nothing.

Once inside the kitchen Cutty shifted his burden into his arms, the way

one carries a child, and followed Kitty into the unused bedroom. He did

not wait for the story, but asked for the telephone.

"I'm going to call for a surgeon at the Lambs. He's just back from

France and knows a lot about broken heads. And we can trust him

absolutely. I told him to wait there until I called."

"Cutty, you're a dear. I don't wonder father loved you."

Presently he turned away from the telephone. "He'll be here in a jiffy.

Now, then, what the deuce is all this about?"

Briefly Kitty narrated the episodes.

"Samaritan stuff. I see. Any absorbent cotton? I can wash the wound

after a fashion. Warm water and Castile soap. We can have him in shape

for Harrison."

Alone, Cutty took note of several apparent facts. The victim's flannel

shirt was torn at the collar and there were marks of finger nails on

the throat and chest. Upon close inspection he observed a thin red line

round the neck--the mark of a thong. Had they tried to strangle him or

had he carried something of value? Silk underwear and a clean body; well

born; foreign. After a conscientious hesitance Cutty went through the

pockets. All he found were some crumbs of tobacco and a soggy match box.

They had cleaned him out evidently. There were no tailors' labels in any

of the pockets; but there were signs that these had once existed. The

man on the bed had probably ripped them out himself; did not care to be

identified.




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