Part 2

"I'm sorry," she whispered. He knew she _was_ sorry. Sorry for all the trouble she had caused him.

"But why...?"

She sat up, shielding herself carefully.

"It's very simple," she explained. "I am doomed to wear the body of a fox during those hours when the sun is high. At night...." She motioned toward the window with slim fingers.

Drake turned, saw that the sun had drifted behind the distant skyline and darkness had come down on the city. He smiled, only partly understanding.

"At night you become a very lovely woman. I know that much."

Sylvia Fanton blushed.

"Thanks!"

Puffy whistled.

"Leave it to Cinderella Drake," he grinned. "Man, you sure hit the jack-pot this time."

Drake sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Please tell us about yourself," he begged. "There's something I should know? Some way I can help?"

She shook her head sadly.

"I'm sorry. I owe you an explanation, and don't think I'm not grateful. More than that I can't tell you now."

"Listen," Jim said. "I may have been drunk last night. Perhaps I'm a mild sort of rotter, but at least I want to try."

The girl shrugged her shoulders helplessly.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It may sound foolish, but the success of my mission here depends on myself alone. The lives of many people are hinged on my playing the game alone. The curse that holds me, binds my people also."

Puffy Adams' jaw dropped. He reached for the always ready bottle in the small bar and poured a drink. He swallowed it with a loud gulp.

"George Lardner shares your knowledge," Drake said.

Sylvia's body shuddered under the fur.

"Lardner is a snake." Her voice was as cold as ice. "His greed has destroyed my people. Death will be his reward."

"All of which means," Drake said evenly. "You have recovered the diamond that you held in your hands last night at the Owl Limb."

* * * * *

The girl arose slowly. The fur draped itself about her body revealing warm shoulders, slim, evenly tapered legs. She stood like something apart from them, small and queenly. Her voice was strained and hurt.

"I cannot say more. You have helped me in the quest of the flaming diamond and you will be rewarded. Now, I must go before I cause your death also."

Jim felt helpless--lost. She had aroused emotions in his heart that had been long buried. Now with stark death and worse threatening her, Sylvia Fanton proposed to leave him forever. He was at her side, his hand clasping the warm wrist tightly.

"Let me help," he begged. "I'm not much on speeches but you're in trouble. I can believe what I have seen. If there is a way of saving you torture, I'm going to do it."

Sylvia stared up at him, tears misting her dark eyes. For a moment he was sure she would throw herself into his arms.

"You're very nice," she said softly. "I'd be grateful forever if you _could_ help, but you can't. I know my task and I have others with me who know theirs. It will be best if we never meet again."

Drake's jaw grew stubborn.

"And if I refuse to let you leave?"

The girl's eyes were cold and she twisted the cape around her slim body tightly, wearing it like a queen's robe. Words tumbled from her lips swiftly.

"There is nothing you can do to prevent it."

A worried grin spread over Jim Drake's face.

"If you insist on going," he said, "there isn't much else to say."

"Don't think I'm not grateful to both of you." This time her smile was for Puffy and his chest swelled a good three inches under its influence. "If you'll promise not to follow me tonight, I'll return here in the morning. If you insist on getting yourselves in trouble on my account there isn't a thing I can do about it without appearing ungrateful."

"That's more like it," Jim said cheerfully. "Now, about your clothes. You can't wear that fur without something under it, although the effect is appealing."

"And revealing," Puffy added.

She blushed.

"Could--could you find something for me. Some of your clothing?"

Puffy Adams chuckled. "With those shoulders Cinderella's got, you'll look like an ex-prizefighter," he warned.

* * * * *

Drake started a search in the closet. Ten minutes later Sylvia Fanton made an appealing picture in tan slacks, light jersey sweater and a pair of sport shoes Jim had discarded years ago but had forgotten to throw away. She stood at the door holding the fox fur close to her breast. Then smiling brightly, she tossed it into his arms.

"Take good care of it," she said. "If it's not here in the morning...."

Drake stood close to her. He couldn't find words for what was in his heart. A dull hurt feeling welled up in his throat. It was so damned futile sending a girl out when he had promised not to follow. If she didn't come back in the morning....

Sylvia's eyes grew tender. Standing on tiptoe, she pressed her lips to his stubbled chin.

"You've been up for a long time, laddie," she whispered. "Better shave and get some rest."

The door slammed quickly and she was gone. Drake held the fur carefully over his arm and rubbed his chin reflectively.

"I'll be damned," he said.

"So will I," Puffy spoke from somewhere behind him. "Looks like Cinderella Drake is gonna go huntin' for that other slipper, and after all these years."

Jim looked around the room for a safe place to hide the precious silver cape. He decided on the big cedar chest in the open closet. He locked the fur in safely and dropped the key in his pocket.

"Ready for a little traveling?" he asked.

Puffy had discarded his shoes and was stretched out comfortably, a frosted glass in his hand. His chin dropped, jumped forward protestingly.

"Just let's relax," he begged. "I've worn the heels off my feet for you today."

Even as he talked the stout one started to tie the laces of his shoes. They went down the quiet hall and into the private elevator.

"What about George Lardner?" Drake asked as they shot toward the main floor. "Find out his life history?"

"At the police station." Puff admitted. Then in a puzzled voice he added, "all but the last two years of it."

"And those last two years?"

They passed quickly through the rear lobby and into the alley. The car was still where Jim had left it. As they drove out of the narrow alley and into the street, Puffy talked.

"George Lardner has been in every racket the law knows about," he said. "The police have a complete record of him since he cut his eye teeth stealing milk. But the last two years get me."

* * * * *

Drake settled down behind the wheel and they headed toward the rush of downtown traffic.

"Don't kill me with the suspense," he said. "What's Lardner been up to that's so startling?"

"Exploring," Puffy said dryly.

"An expedition to the city's slums?" Drake queried.

"No!" Puffy crossed his legs comfortably and scratching a match on the bottom of his shoe, touched the flame to his cigarette. "I had to go to the Explorer's Club to get the dope on him. Lardner has been spending a lot of time in the Baker Lake district just east of Hudson Bay in Canada."

Drake's foot released its pressure on the gas pedal. "Thought that country was pretty well explored years ago," he said mildly. "Nothing much but snow and ice up there, is there?"

"And maybe diamonds," Puffy said. "At least that's what Lardner and some of the boys at the Explorer's Club think."

Drake's interest was increasing.

"Is that where he found that big gem he displayed at the club the other night?"

Puffy's lips split in a wide, toothy grin.

"Cinderella Drake knows the answers," he admitted. "Yes! That's where he found the diamond and that's how he happened to get in with the stuffed shirts at the Explorer's Club."

Drake was silent.

Adams hesitated, then added,

"Lardner showed up there six months ago claiming he had found the world's largest diamond. He claimed he got it from a secret valley somewhere in the Baker Lake district."

"Fantastic!" They had reached their destination and Drake pulled the coupe in smoothly to the curb. The lights over the door of the Owl Limb Night Club were darkened.

"The Explorer's Club doesn't think so. They are mighty stirred up about his find. The only thing that puzzles them is how come the stone is cut. Lardner refuses to tell them who did the job. As for finding it where he did, it seems they've had an idea there were diamonds in that country and were just waiting for someone to prove it."[1]

[Footnote 1: Professor Hobbs of the University of Michigan has found several small diamonds and diamond particles in the strata of the glacial flow throughout certain northern states.

Hobbs, a careful and painstaking research worker, used his knowledge of geology to trace the strata of the glacial flow. He determined several years ago that the diamonds came from the north, somewhere in the Hudson Bay area. Although his co-workers are confident that he is correct, a rush of prospectors failed to find anything that would prove his theory.

Although opinions among geologists vary, many believe in Hobbs and his work. A consulting gem expert at the world famous Field Museum put forth this story to your editor, and convinced him that Hobbs is a clear headed expert who knows what he is talking about. Somewhere under the waste of snow, probably a little east of Hudson Bay, there is a fortune in uncovered diamonds. A fortune that could easily eclipse the yield of Africa's richest diamond fields.--ED.]

* * * * *

Jim Drake knew all he wanted to for the time being. He turned toward the unlighted marquee of the Owl Limb.

"Looks as though the police closed the place up," Puffy said soberly. "Gonna stay sober tonight?"

"Do you know where that check room girl lives; the one you call Mary?" Drake asked.

Puffy's face sobered.

"She's married and has three kids," he said. "I don't know where any married women live."

Jim chuckled. He twisted the car into the traffic again, and with a swift U-turn, headed the coupe toward home.

"Just the same I need information from a married woman," he said. "And you're getting out at the next corner in a perhaps futile effort to find Mary."

"And if her husband doesn't meet me at the door with a shotgun," Puffy asked, "what do I ask her?"

Jim shot an appraising look toward the deserted corner ahead, whipped the coupe up beside a traffic officer and opened the door.

"From now on," he said, "we are interested in Lardner. He's a busy man these days. Mary ought to know where her boss is. Women like that have an idea of everything that is going on. Find out where Lardner went and meet me at the apartment as soon as you can."

Puffy was already on the sidewalk.

"Leave it to me, Cinderella," he said. "I get the idea. If you can't follow the fox, you're gonna follow the wolf and let him lead you to her."

Drake nodded and smiled after the sturdy figure with a growing respect.

"Move along there!" The gruff voice came from his side. "Can't be holding traffic all night for you."

Drake turned, saw the officer grinning at him, and shot into the traffic.

* * * * *

The door of the apartment was ajar. The puzzled expression on Jim Drake's face changed to one of worried interest. He pushed the door open swiftly, and silently. The lights were out. A sound came from the direction of the window and straining he thought he saw the curtain blow in slightly. On tiptoe he went swiftly around the side of the big room. The chair by the bed had been moved and he struck his shin on it in the dark.

The room flashed white as he pressed the electric button. Hot anger passed through his body. Every piece of furniture in the room had been tipped upside down. Linings were torn from the chairs. His clothing was heaped in an ugly pile in the middle of the floor. Drawers were pulled out and emptied.

The fur! He ran swiftly to the closet, twisted the handle and breathed a sigh of relief. The cedar chest was broken and splintered around the lock, but the cover hadn't been lifted. He inserted the key quickly and drew out the fur cape. Its rich depth felt more precious than ever in his fingers. Here in his hands was the link to his first real love affair.

A footstep sounded faintly behind him. His heart was in his throat. Drake whipped around and sprang to his feet. He stared straight into the barrel of a wicked automatic. Lifting his eyes slowly, he studied the man who held the weapon.

The stranger's face was hard as stone, almost barbaric. His bronze skin stretched tightly over firm, high cheek bones. The mouth was open slightly in a determined way. Teeth that flashed like an uneven row of pearls seemed half savage, yet not unfriendly.

"You will come toward me slowly," the man's voice was cultured, yet hesitant, as though he hadn't spoken English for many years. "A false move will destroy you."

He backed away toward the center of the room.

"How ... where?" Drake stammered.

"You forgot to examine the bath," the gunman said. "You are not a painstaking young man, Jim Drake."

Jim started. The man knew his name, held a gun on him that threatened immediate death, and yet his voice was friendly, ever courteous.

"I have nothing here that you want," Drake said.

* * * * *

He stood in the middle of the room now. The stranger reached down carefully with one hand, still holding his aim. He twisted a chair upright and sat down. For the first time Drake had a chance to look him over more carefully. His eyes were the same deep black as Sylvia Fanton's. Cold and yet somehow gentle.

"You are holding in your hand what I need more than anything in the world." The man relaxed but the gun didn't waver. Drake sat down opposite him on the edge of the bed.

"The fur?" he asked.

"The fox fur." The gun settled on the strange intruder's knee and he leaned forward eagerly. "Give it to me at once. If I leave with it now, you will be troubled no more. This is as our mistress demands."

Then Sylvia Fanton had sent him. He must be one of the henchmen she had spoken of. At once Drake felt relieved. He pushed the fur away from him slowly, hating to part with it. The man stood up, took it with his free hand and held it tightly.

"You are very wise," he said slowly.

He started to back toward the window.

"Wait," Drake was on his feet, "Sylvia promised to return in the morning. Why...?"

A look of compassion spread across the gunman's face.

"Sylvia Fanton is no more," he said pityingly. "You had but a brief glimpse of an earthly woman who is the most perfect creation on earth. Now she has completed her mission and will return to her people."

"Then you did get the diamond?" Drake was sorry at once that he had spoken. The man's eyes turned icy.

"We have done what we came to do," he said shortly. "We appreciate the part you played in our success. More than that, I am not at liberty to discuss. Please do not follow me as I leave."

Then, carefully,

"Make no mistake, Mr. Drake. Our queen came very close to deserting her sacred trust. If you were to see her again, you would not enjoy the same close association. There is no place in her life for you, or you would be going with me instead of staying here at the point of a gun."

Drake moved forward hesitantly, and then stopped with the gesture of a man who knows he is beaten.

"Okay," he admitted. "You've got me on the spot. But remember this: George Lardner thinks more of that diamond than he does his life. He's going to leave a trail of blood in every country of the world, but he'll get it if you don't kill him first."

The gunman's face was a mask of hatred.

"Do not underestimate the power Lardner is fighting," he said grimly. "There will be blood, yes. It will be Lardner's blood. He has a debt to pay, and it is not our wish that you be involved when payment is made. Our leader whom you know as Sylvia Fanton has one message for you. Goodbye."

He tossed a small envelope of paper at Jim's feet and was gone through the window as silently as a floating cloud.

* * * * *

Jim stood speechless for a second, then he went toward the window and looked down the long line shadow of the fire escape. There was no one in sight. A small dog darted along the edge of the alley far below. Or was it a dog? His bewildered mind told him the animal was more like a fox in its quick, sly movements.

Drake picked up the slip of paper in shaking fingers. He opened it and stared at the neat longhand message:

_We were very close to love, Jim Drake. Love is not good for a woman who has my obligations._

The outer door rattled noisily. Drake took a second quick look at the note and stuffed it into his pocket. Puffy Adams stormed in and stopped abruptly with a shocked look in his eyes.

"Been havin' a party?" he asked whimsically. "Looks like the guests came on a whirlwind."

Drake was silent. He started to rearrange the room mechanically. Duffy collected the clothing from the floor and replaced it in the closet. The boss would talk when he got ready.

From the chair by the cocktail table, Drake said suddenly, "What about Lardner? Did Mary know where he went?"

Puffy, his job completed, slumped across the bed.

"That guy Lardner is off on another trip." He started to slip his shoes off, thought better of it, and tied the laces again. "Mary says he gave the employees all a month's pay and said he'd be back in time to keep them in cash next month."

Through a cloud of pipe smoke, Drake was placing more pieces into the jigsaw of Sylvia Fanton's life.

"Any idea where he's going?" he asked.

Puffy shook his head.

"Not the slightest," he admitted. "Mary says her boss is tighter than a bum's pocketbook when it comes to information."

Drake had enough pipe smoke. He put it away carefully and stood up.

"I see you didn't get the shoes off after all," he said a little slyly. "Going somewhere?"

Puffy arose, took a suitcase from the closet shelf and started tossing clothing into it.

"I think so," he said grimly. "If I'm half as good a stooge as I think I am, we'll be needing overcoats before we get back."

Drake was already waiting at the door when his companion lifted the heavy bag to his shoulder and prepared to follow.

"Got your long underwear?" he asked soothingly. "We're going to the airport first, but after that I've got a hunch we'll go diamond prospecting somewhere east of Hudson Bay."

Puffy shivered.

"Cinderella Drake hunts the silver slipper." His voice was doubtful, his eyes were twinkling. "If you find it up there, you'll freeze your foot trying the damned thing on."

* * * * *

The Municipal Airport was deserted, save for a small group of men waiting just outside the main lobby. They were obviously the members of a dance band. Instruments were packed and waiting on the baggage truck outside as Drake and Puffy entered. Drake went straight to the ticket window. The man behind the ticket cage looked up with a smile as he approached. His eyes were tired and questioning.

"Yes, sir?" in quiet friendliness.

Drake tossed a roll of bills on the counter.

"We're thinking of taking the night plane to Winnipeg," he said indecisively. "Any empty berths?"

The clerk grinned.

"Fortunately for you," he said, "there aren't any priority passengers tonight. The Winnipeg job has been full of flyers headed for the Canadian border for the past two weeks. Nothing of importance tonight. Five berths available."

Drake looked around curiously.

"Have you a passenger named George Lardner?" he asked.

The clerk took down a small file and thumbed through it. He shook his head.

"No. Had you planned to meet him here?"

Drake smiled.

"We had a date," he admitted. "George Lardner is headed for the same destination. He'll no doubt catch a later plane and meet us in Winnipeg."

The clerk was penning figures rapidly across the ticket.

"You won't lack for entertainment," he laughed in a low voice. "That gang at the door call themselves Harry's Rhythm Rascals. Headed for a dance job up there."

"I'd rather have a quiet berth," Drake admitted. "Need sleep more than I need rhythm."

The clerk collected the two fares and said sleepily,

"Your plane will take off in twenty minutes, sir. May as well get aboard. The berths are made up."

"Thanks." Drake pocketed the tickets and motioned for Adams to follow. As they passed Harry's Rhythm Rascals, Drake watched one of the men turn slowly and follow him.

"That guy must be the tuba player," Puffy said quickly. "He sure looks as though he'd been pushed around."

The luggage was disposed of and in ten minutes Drake was lying quietly under the dome of the plane. A sudden throb of motors came from up ahead. With half closed eyes he wondered, if at the end of this mad journey, Sylvia Fanton might be waiting for him. George Lardner wouldn't be far away. Although the plane trip had started like a wild goose chase, at least he was headed in the general direction of trouble, and the grandest girl he had ever met. Turning restlessly on one side, he was aware that the bumpy ground was no longer under the plane and the three great motors were purring smoothly as they drifted ahead through the starlit night.

* * * * *

"Jim!--Jim!" Drake opened one eye with effort, remembered that he was in a plane bound for Winnipeg, and sat up. Through the parted curtain he could see the dark earth underneath sprinkled occasionally with a handful of twinkling lights. Puffy Adams was leaning over the berth, his body clad in oversized pajamas, eyes wide with excitement.

"The orchestra!" Puffy was muttering. "They ain't! They're Lardner's gunmen! Lardner's on board!" He babbled on.

"Wait a minute!" Drake was wide awake now. He helped Adams into the berth, holding a warning finger over his lips. "Now," he said firmly, "one thing at a time."

"Those punks that called themselves Harry's Rhythm Rascals. They got a plane full of tommy guns. They can't play but _one_ tune on those."

Drake's eyes narrowed.

"How did you find out?"

"I couldn't sleep," Puffy said. "Went up front to get a glass of water and find that pretty hostess to keep me company."

"So?"

Puffy gulped.

"So she isn't aboard the plane. We landed somewhere last night right after we took off. I didn't think nothin' of it. Ain't used to these airplanes. Well, when I was up front I heard two of these punks talkin' in their berths."

He opened the curtain slightly and looked both ways along the narrow aisle.

"This whole damned plane is full of Lardner's men. They were laughing at the trick they pulled on the airlines. Seems they forced the pilot to land, threw out both pilots and the hostess. Lardner was waiting at the private field and he came aboard."

"You're sure Lardner's on this plane?" Drake asked. "You didn't dream all this?"

"Listen, Cinderella." Puffy was himself again. "This sky bird is headquarters for every ex-con in Chicago. I don't know why they didn't throw us off with the hostess, but I sure wish they had."

A hard smile twisted Drake's lips.

"I think," he said, "that we're going to see Sylvia Fanton much sooner than I had planned. Unless we do some fast thinking we may not see her alive."

* * * * *

They sat quietly as Drake studied the country under the plane. He tried to discover some landmark listed on the map. There was nothing but scarred, snowcapped mountain peaks. A sprinkling of toothpick pines relieved the monotony of blinding snow, here and there. Gradually, as the plane droned on, even these were left behind. Ahead--only the white wastes.

From somewhere forward in the plane came a hard chuckle of laughter.

"Our hosts are coming to life," Drake said. "It's now or never." He pushed bare feet into the aisle and dropped, stretching his arms overhead with a yawn.

"As soon as I'm out of sight," he whispered, "get back to your berth and dress. I'll see you in the cabin ahead. Act as though you know nothing. Understand?"

Puffy grinned sadly.