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Stevenson, Burton Egbert, 1872-1962

"The Gloved Hand"

"
I had expected it, but the certainty that we had failed again did not
add to my cheerfulness.
"Swain wants us to kidnap her," I said, with a twisted smile.
"I'm not sure but that he's right," said my partner, and went
thoughtfully away.
I went to my rooms, changed, had dinner at a quiet restaurant, and
then took the elevated for the long trip to the Bronx. It was after
eight o'clock when I pulled the bell beside the tall gates to
Elmhurst. The gardener was evidently expecting me, for he appeared
almost at once and admitted me. Without waiting for him, I walked up
the drive toward the house. The lights were on in the library, and I
stepped up to the open door.
Then I stopped, and my heart fell. For there were two white-robed
figures in the room. One was Miss Vaughan and the other was Francisco
Silva. The girl was sitting at his feet.
They had evidently heard my footsteps, for they were looking toward
the door, and Miss Vaughan arose as soon as I came within the circle
of light. But if I expected her to show any embarrassment, I was
disappointed.
"Come in, Mr. Lester," she said. "I believe you have not met Senor Silva.


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