Adventure, December 1914 — page 12: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

7, | AS THE hour grew later more peo- ™)| ple arrived, and the groups were con- tinually splitting up and new ones being formed. ‘Thus it came about that Kennedy and myself, having been set down I suppose as mere sightseers, found our- selves at last alone at the table, while Sefiora Ruiz and another gay party were chatting in animated tones farther down the room. I looked at Craig inquiringly, but he shook his head and said in a whisper: “Tf hardly think we are well acquainted enough yet to do much circulating about the room. It would look too much like ‘butting in.’ If any one speaks to us we can play them along, but we had better not do much speaking ourselves—yet.”’ It was a novel experience and I thor- oughly enjoyed it, as I did every new phase of life in cosmopolitan New York. The hour was growing late, however, and I began to wonder whether anything else was going to happen, when I saw a waiter go down quietly and speak to Sefiora Ruiz. A moment later the party of which she was a member rose and one by one disappeared up what had been the stairs of the house when it was formerly a residence. Others rose and followed, perhaps ten or a dozen, all of whom I recognized as intimate friends. It had no effect on the crowd below, fur- ther than to reduce it slightly and put an end to the dancing of Ruiz. “Private dining -rooms upstairs?” in- quired Kennedy nonchalantly of the waiter as he came around again for orders. “Yes,” he replied. ‘“There’s a little party on up there in one of them tonight.” Our friend Neumeyer and his guest had left some time before, and now there seemed to be little reason why we should stay. ‘We have gained an entrée, anyhow,” ob- served Kennedy, moving as if he were going. He rose, walked over to the door and out into the hall. Down the staircase we could hear floating snatches of conversation from above. In fact it seemed as if in several of the dining-rooms there were parties of friends. One was particularly gay, and it was easy to conjecture that that was the party of which Sefiora Ruiz was the life. Craig rejoined me at the table quickly, having looked about at practically all the private dining-rooms without exciting sus- picion. Adventure “It’s all very interesting,” he observed | tome. “But although it has added to our list of acquaintances considerably, I can’t say this visit has given us much real infor- mation. Still you never can tell, and until I am ready to come out in what I call my ‘open investigation,’ these are acquain- tances worth cultivating. I have no doubt that Valcour and Sinclair would have been welcomed by that Ruiz party, and certainly from their actions it can not be that it is generally known yet that Valcour is dead.” “No,” I agreed. I had been going over in my mind the names of those we had met and the names I had heard mentioned. Not once had any one said the name of Morelos. “There has been no one of the name of Morelos here,”’ I suggested to Craig. “No,” he answered with a covert glance around. “And I did not make any inqui- ries. You may have noticed that all these people here seem to be supporters of the Government. I was about to inquire about him once when it suddenly occurred to me that he might be connected with the rebels, the Constitutionalists. I thought it would be discretion to refrain from even mention- ing his name before these Federals.”’ “Then perhaps Sinclair is playing the game with both factions,’ I conjectured hastily, adding, ‘‘and Valcour was doing the same—is that what you mean?” ‘The dancing has begun again,” he hinted to me, changing the subject to one less dangerous. I took the hint and for a few moments we watched the people in the sensuous mazes of some of the new steps. Intently as I looked, I could see not the slightest evidence that any one in the cabaret knew of the terrible tragedy that had overtaken one of the habitués. : As I watched I wondered whether there might have been a love triangle of some kind. It had all been very unconventional. Had the Bohemian Valcour come between some of these fiery lovers? I could not help thinking of the modern dances, especially as Valcour must have danced them. I could almost imagine the flash of those tango-slip- pers and her beautiful ankle, the swaying of her lithe body. What might she not do in arousing passions? Speculate as I might, however, I always came back to the one question, ‘‘Who was the mysterious Sefior Morelos?”’ MICLOOOK C@