There was a small terrier, tied up close to the base of an iron urn. The terrier was screaming and trying to twist away from the whistling blows of a whip that seemed made of fine, cutting, copper wire. And the wielder of the diabolical whip was a man whose face had been pictured in all the nation’s papers at one time or another.
But Edwin Ritter’s face had never been caught by a camera as Smitty and Josh saw it now.
His face was a devil’s mask. The lips were curved up in a frightful grin. The eyes were almost closed as the whip whistled down. Little muscles in the cheeks jerked with every blow. It was a face out of hell.
Just one last blow Ritter got in when he sensed the presence of others. Instantly, he whirled toward Josh and Smitty, and as instantly his face changed.
It became benevolent, regretful, pained, sorrowful — but stern.
“Gentlemen,” Ritter said, “I’m extremely sorry you should chance to come here at such a time. My poor dog. It distresses me so much to have to discipline it now and then. Yet, discipline is necessary. Not a very nice sight for visitors to see, though, is it? Knarlie!” The bland, benevolent expression still held, but cords in the man’s throat suddenly stood out in a frenzy of carefully veiled anger. “Knarlie, why did you show visitors out here?”
The ugly-looking servant opened his mouth to speak but seemed to realize there was nothing to say and only spread his hands. Then he left the terrace, looking stricken and frightened. And well he might. For the last person on earth to be caught in such a scene was a man who wanted to be president of the United States some day.
Josh saw Smitty’s big hands quivering for action. But the giant couldn’t break this man’s neck or use the dog’s whip on him as he ached to do.
“We’re from the press,” Smitty said, taking a malicious pleasure in seeing Ritter’s face go deadly white and his lips twitch in terror. “We came to check on the banquet proceedings last night.”
“I gave all the details it was seemly for me to give to others from the papers,” Ritter said, very, very, friendly.
“There seem to have been a few details omitted,” said Smitty. “For instance, have you any idea what started the fight between Ainslee and Fox?”
“None whatever,” said Ritter. He looked with a bland smile at Josh. “You represent a Negro publication?”
“The
Ritter moistened putty-colored lips, and Smitty went on with his questions but couldn’t pry out anything not already printed in the papers. Ritter herded them subtly into the house and down the hall toward the front door.
“I… er… trust you two won’t bother to report my regrettable necessity back there on the terrace,” he said, opening the door for them.
“Necessity?” said Smitty, face impassive.
“Yes, of course. When a dog disobeys orders, it must be punished. Dogs must be kept well trained or they become nuisances to others, and that would be most inconsiderate on the owner’s part. Yet, I realize that it may have looked severe to two men chancing to come at the wrong moment.”
Smitty and Josh said nothing, getting at least some small revenge from seeing him wriggle.
“I hope to be president one of these days,” Ritter said, smiling widely with pale lips. “In fact, I have every reason to believe I will become so. And two… er… journalists who happen to be close friends of a president of the United States would be in a very fortunate position indeed.”
“Yes, wouldn’t they?” said Smitty. And the two left.
But with them went the vision of Ritter’s face just before he knew there was anyone watching. The face of a fiend, inflicting torment on a helpless animal for torment’s own sake. “I wonder how many times that faithful little servant of his, the one he called Knarlie, has kept people from seeing Ritter in one of those moods?” mused Josh.
“Always, till now, I guess,” growled Smitty. “It would have come out in print if he’d been caught like that very often.”
“And he wants to be president!” Josh’s jaw set. “How would you like a man like that in the White House?”
Smitty felt like shivering.
“I could believe anything about him,” he said. “Watch him is right! We’ll take day and night shifts and never let him out of our sight. Flip you for the night watch.”
The coin came heads, so Smitty won. The giant got out of the car to take over the daylight vigil, with the politician still in the Weyland place. Josh went back to town to get some rest for the night watch over Ritter.
And both kept seeing him at his diabolical work with the wire whip.
This time the meeting of the automotive heads was not held in any hotel. There was too much chance of publicity.
It was held at the home of one of the magnates, and everyone was there save Ainslee and Fox. Ritter was there, too.
