XV THE POLICE MOVE

 Life was busy for Achilles. There were visits to the hospital—where he must not speak to his boy, but only look at him and catch little silent smiles from the bandaged face—and visits to the great house on the lake, where he came and went freely. The doors swung open of themselves, it seemed, as Achilles mounted the steps between the lions. All the pretty life and flutter of the place had changed. Detectives went in and out; and instead of the Halcyon¹ Club, the Chief of Police and assistants held conferences in the big library. But there was no clue to the child!... She had withdrawn², it seemed, into a clear sky. James had been summoned to the library many times, and questioned sharply; but his wooden countenance³ held no light and the tale did not change by a hair. He had held the horses. Yes—there wa’n’t nobody—but little Miss Harris and him.... She was in the carriage—he held the horses. The horses? They had frisked a bit, maybe, the way horses will—at one o’ them autos that squirted by, and he had quieted ’em down—but there wa’n’t nobody.... And he was the last link between little Betty Harris and the world—all the bustling⁴, wrestling, interested world of Chicago—that shouted extras and stared at the house on the lake and peered in at its life—at the rising and eating and sleeping that went on behind the red-stone walls. The red-stone walls had thinned to a veil and the whole world might look in—because a child had been snatched away; and the heart of a city understood. But no one but James could have told what had happened to the child sitting with her little red cherries in the light; and James was stupid—and in the bottomless abyss of James’s face the clue was lost.

 

Achilles had come in for his share of questioning. The child had been to his shop it seemed... and the papers took it up and made much of it—there were headlines and pictures... the public was interested. The tale grew to a romance, and fathers and mothers and children in Boston and New York and London heard how Betty had sat in the gay little fruit-shop—and listened to Achilles’s stories of Athens and Greece, and of the Acropolis—and of the studies in Greek history, and her gods and goddesses and the temples and ruins lying packed in their boxes waiting her return. The daily papers were a thrilling tale—with the quick touch of love and human sympathy that brings the world together.

 

To Achilles it was as if the hand of Zeus had reached and touched the child—and she was not. What god sheltered her beneath a magic veil—so that she passed unseen? He lifted his face, seeking in air and sun and cloud, a token. Over the lake came the great breeze, speaking to him, and out of the air a thousand hands reached to him—to tell him of the child. But he could not find the place that held her. In the dusky shop, he held his quiet way. No one, looking, would have guessed—“Two cen’s, yes,” and his swift fingers made change while his eyes searched every face. But the child, in her shining cloud, was not revealed.

 

When he was summoned before the detectives and questioned, with swift sternness, it was his own questions that demanded answer—and got it. The men gathered in the library, baffled by the search, and asking futile⁵, dreary⁶ questions, learned to wait in amusement for the quick, searching gestures flung at them and the eager face that seemed to drink their words. Gradually they came to understand—the Greek was learning the science of kidnapping—its methods and devices and the probable plan of approach. But the Chief shook his head. “You won’t trace these men by any of the old tricks. It’s a new deal. We shall only get them by a fluke.” And to his own men he said, “Try any old chance, boys, run it down—if it takes weeks—Harris won’t compromise—and you may stumble on a clue. The man that finds it makes money.” Gradually they drew their lines around the city; but still, from the tapped wires, the messages came—to them, sitting in conclave⁷ in the library—to Philip Harris in his bare office and to the mother, waiting alone in her room.

 

At last she could not bear it. “I cannot hold out, Philip,” she said, one day, when he had come in and found her hanging up the receiver with a fixed⁸ look. “Don’t trust me, dear. Take me away.” And that night the big car had borne her swiftly from the city, out to the far-breathing air of the plain and the low hills. In her room in the house on the lake, her little telephone bell tinkled⁹, and waited, and rang again—baffled by long silence and by discreet¹⁰ replies.... The tapped wires concentrated now upon Philip Harris, working by suggestion, and veiled threat, on his overwrought nerves till his hand shook when he reached out to the receiver—and his voice betrayed him in his denials. They were closing on him, with hints of an ultimatum¹¹. He dared not trust himself. He left the house to the detectives and went down to the offices, where he could work and no one could get at him. Every message from the outside world came to him sifted¹², and he breathed more freely as he took up the telephone. The routine of business steadied him. In a week he should be himself—he could return to the attack.

 

Then a message got through to him—up through the offices. The man who delivered it spoke¹³ in a clear, straight voice that did not rise or fall. He had agreed to give the message, he said—a hundred thousand paid to-day, or no communication for three months. The child would be taken out of the country. The men behind the deal were getting tired and would drop the whole business. They had been more than fair in the chances they had offered for compromise.... There was a little pause in the message—then the voice went on, “I am one of your own men, Harris, inside the works—a man that you killed—in the way of business. I agreed to give you the message—for quits. Good-bye.” The voice rang off and Philip Harris sat alone.

 

A man that he had killed—in the way of business—! Hundreds of them—at work for him—New York—Cincinnati—St. Louis. It would not be easy—to trace a man that he had killed in business.

 

So he sat with bent¹⁴ head, in the circle of his own works... the network he had spread over the land—and somewhere, outside that circle, his child, the very heart, was held as hostage—three months. Little Betty! He shivered a little and got op and reached for a flask¹⁵ of brandy and poured it out, gulping¹⁶ it down. He looked about the room ... inside now. He had shut himself in his citadel¹⁷... and they were inside. The brandy stayed his hand from shaking—but he knew that he had weakened. His mind went back to the man he had “killed in business”—the straight, clear voice sounding over the ’phone—he had not wanted to ruin him—them, hundreds of them. It was the System—kill or be killed. He took his chance and they took theirs—and they had gone down.

 

 

1 halcyon   

n.平静的，愉快的

参考例句：

• He yearned for the halcyon day sof his childhood.他怀念儿时宁静幸福的日子。
• He saw visions of a halcyon future.他看到了将来的太平日子的幻境。

2 withdrawn   

vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出

参考例句：

• Our force has been withdrawn from the danger area.我们的军队已从危险地区撤出。
• All foreign troops should be withdrawn to their own countries.一切外国军队都应撤回本国去。

3 countenance   

n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同

参考例句：

• At the sight of this photograph he changed his countenance.他一看见这张照片脸色就变了。
• I made a fierce countenance as if I would eat him alive.我脸色恶狠狠地，仿佛要把他活生生地吞下去。

4 bustling   

adj.喧闹的

参考例句：

• The market was bustling with life. 市场上生机勃勃。
• This district is getting more and more prosperous and bustling. 这一带越来越繁华了。

5 futile   

adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的

参考例句：

• They were killed,to the last man,in a futile attack.因为进攻失败，他们全部被杀，无一幸免。
• Their efforts to revive him were futile.他们对他抢救无效。

6 dreary   

adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的

参考例句：

• They live such dreary lives.他们的生活如此乏味。
• She was tired of hearing the same dreary tale of drunkenness and violence.她听够了那些关于酗酒和暴力的乏味故事。

7 conclave   

n.秘密会议，红衣主教团

参考例句：

• Signore,I ask and I prey,that you break this conclave.各位阁下，我请求，并祈祷，你们能停止这次秘密会议。
• I met my partner at that conclave and my life moved into a huge shift.我就是在那次大会上遇到了我的伴侣的，而我的生活就转向了一个巨大的改变。

8 fixed   

adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的

参考例句：

• Have you two fixed on a date for the wedding yet?你们俩选定婚期了吗？
• Once the aim is fixed,we should not change it arbitrarily.目标一旦确定，我们就不应该随意改变。

9 tinkled   

（使）发出丁当声，（使）发铃铃声( tinkle的过去式和过去分词 )； 叮当响着发出，铃铃响着报出

参考例句：

• The sheep's bell tinkled through the hills. 羊的铃铛叮当叮当地响彻整个山区。
• A piano tinkled gently in the background. 背景音是悠扬的钢琴声。

10 discreet   

adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的

参考例句：

• He is very discreet in giving his opinions.发表意见他十分慎重。
• It wasn't discreet of you to ring me up at the office.你打电话到我办公室真是太鲁莽了。

11 ultimatum   

n.最后通牒

参考例句：

• This time the proposal was couched as an ultimatum.这一次该提议是以最后通牒的形式提出来的。
• The cabinet met today to discuss how to respond to the ultimatum.内阁今天开会商量如何应对这道最后通牒。

12 sifted   

v.筛( sift的过去式和过去分词 )；筛滤；细查；详审

参考例句：

• She sifted through her papers to find the lost letter. 她仔细在文件中寻找那封丢失的信。 来自《简明英汉词典》
• She sifted thistles through her thistle-sifter. 她用蓟筛筛蓟。 来自《简明英汉词典》

13 spoke   

n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说

参考例句：

• They sourced the spoke nuts from our company.他们的轮辐螺帽是从我们公司获得的。
• The spokes of a wheel are the bars that connect the outer ring to the centre.辐条是轮子上连接外圈与中心的条棒。

14 bent   

n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的

参考例句：

• He was fully bent upon the project.他一心扑在这项计划上。
• We bent over backward to help them.我们尽了最大努力帮助他们。

15 flask   

n.瓶，火药筒，砂箱

参考例句：

• There is some deposit in the bottom of the flask.这只烧杯的底部有些沉淀物。
• He took out a metal flask from a canvas bag.他从帆布包里拿出一个金属瓶子。

16 gulping   

v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的现在分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住

参考例句：

• She crawled onto the river bank and lay there gulping in air. 她爬上河岸，躺在那里喘着粗气。 来自《简明英汉词典》
• And you'll even feel excited gulping down a glass. 你甚至可以感觉到激动下一杯。 来自互联网

17 citadel   

n.城堡；堡垒；避难所

参考例句：

• The citadel was solid.城堡是坚固的。
• This citadel is built on high ground for protecting the city.这座城堡建于高处是为保护城市。