CHAPTER XVII

AN INTERESTING CONVERSATION

Adam Adams had watched the appearance and disappearance of the two men with interest.  He remembered that Matlock Styles, the man who owed the Langmore estate $16,000 on three mortgages, was an Englishman, with mutton-chop whiskers.  Evidently the man who had arrived with the secret service employee was the same individual.

This being so, the question at once arose, what had brought the pair together?  Matlock Styles lived in an old colonial mansion, so Raymond Case had said, a mile and a half from the Langmore estate.  Did his coming to Bryport have anything to do with the tragedy or with the counterfeits?

Going close to the house once more, he heard the two men enter the parlor and heard Watkins order supper.  Then followed a conversation in such a low tone that he could only catch an occasional word.  He heard something about mortgages and then a safe was mentioned, but he could not catch the direct connection.  Evidently though, they were discussing the Langmore affair.

In a short while supper was served and the two men passed to the dining hall.  Here, while the girls were near, they spoke of matters in general.  The meal finished, John Watkins invited his visitor up to his den on the second floor.

As said before, the house was on a corner, and by the lighting up of a room above, Adam Adams located the den, just behind the main front corner room, and close to a tree, which grew along the side street.  Looking around, the detective made certain that nobody was observing him, and then began to climb the tree with the agility of a schoolboy.  One heavy branch ran out close to the building, and standing on this brought him to within three feet of the window, which was screened and open from the bottom to admit the air.  The curtain was down to within three inches of the window sill, thus affording the detective a chance to peep into the apartment without running much risk of being discovered.

“Then you say the mortgages have not been paid?” came from John Watkins.

“No, blast the luck!” growled Matlock Styles.  “I didn’t think he wanted the cash so I let them run on.”

“Have you any idea how the estate is to be divided?”

“I understand the girl gets half.  The wife’s half will go to her two sons now.”

“That is lucky for them.  I reckon Dick Ostrello can use all the money he can lay hands on.  He’s a wild one, if ever there was one.”

“Don’t Tom spend his money?”

“Not lately.  I understand he is saving up to marry some girl in New York.”

“Humph.”

There was a pause, during which time both men lit cigars.

“How is the bloody business going?” asked Matlock Styles presently.

“Oh, I manage to earn my salary,” answered the secret service man, with a dry laugh.  “I don’t get promoted though.”