"Seven Footprints To Satan" - читать интересную книгу автора (Merritt Abraham)

"I have a license to carry a gun," I said, tartly.

"Where is it?" he asked.

"In the wallet that man took from me when he lifted the gun," I answered. "If you'll search him you'll find it."

"Oh, poor lad! Poor lad!" murmured Consardine. And so sincere seemed his distress that I was half inclined to feel sorry for myself. He spoke again to the Sergeant.

"I think perhaps the matter can be settled without running the risk of the journey to Headquarters. As Officer Mooney has told you, my patient's present delusion is that he is a certain James Kirkham and living at the Discoverers' Club. It may be that the real Mr. Kirkham is there at this moment. I therefore suggest that you call up the Discoverers' Club and ask for him. If Mr. Kirkham is there, I take it that will end the matter. If not, we will go to Headquarters."

The Sergeant looked at me, and I looked at Consardine, amazed.

"If you can talk to James Kirkham at the Discoverers' Club," I said at last, "then I'm Henry Walton!"

We walked over to a telephone booth. I gave the Sergeant the number of the Club.

"Ask for Robert," I interposed. "He's the desk man."

I had talked to Robert a few minutes before I had gone out. He would still be on duty.

"Is that Robert? At the desk?" the Sergeant asked as the call came through. "Is Mr. James Kirkham there? This is Police Sergeant Downey."

There was a pause. He glanced at me.

"They're paging Kirkham," he mutteredЧthen to the phoneЧ"What's that? You are James Kirkham! A moment, pleaseЧput that clerk back. HelloЧyou Robert? That party I'm talking to Kirkham? Kirkham the explorer? You're certain? All rightЧall right! Don't get excited about it. I'll admit you know him. Put him backЧ Hello, Mr. Kirkham? No, it's all right. Just a case ofЧerЧbugs! Man thinks he's youЧ"

I snatched the receiver from his hand, lifted it to my ear and heard a voice saying:

"ЧNot the first time, poor devilЧ"

The voice was my very own!





CHAPTER THREE

The receiver was taken from me, gently enough. Now the Sergeant was listening again. Mooney had me by one arm, the man in the Inverness by the other. I heard the Sergeant say:

"YesЧWalton, Henry Walton, yes, that's the name. Sorry to have troubled you, Mr. Kirkham. Goo'-by."

He snapped up the 'phone and regarded me, compassionately.

"Too bad!" he said. "It's a damned shame. Do you want an ambulance, doctor?"

"No, thanks," answered Consardine. "It's a peculiar case. The kidnapping delusion is a strong one. He'll be quieter with people around him. We'll go up on the subway. Even though his normal self is not in control, his subconscious will surely tell him that kidnapping is impossible in the midst of a subway crowd. Now, Henry," he patted my hand, "admit that it is. You are beginning to realize it already, aren't youЧ"

I broke out of my daze. The man who had passed me on Fifth Avenue! The man who had so strangely resembled me! Fool that I was not to have thought of that before! "Wait, officer," I cried desperately. "That was an impostor at the ClubЧsome one made up to look like me. I saw himЧ"