“My name, as you probably know, although you pretend to have forgotten it, is W. Rufus Fairspeckle,” continued the other, taking The Phantom’s arm and turning into a side street. “I don’t know how many millions I have, but I have enough to make me a shining mark for Mr. Shei’s latest offensive. Ah, I see you remember me now!”
The Phantom’s involuntary start had betrayed him. The mere mention of Mr. Fairspeckle’s name had instantly clarified his hazy recollections. He recalled now that, some five or six years ago, he had had a brief and casual encounter with the man. It had occurred in the course of one of The Phantom’s spectacular adventures, and he had almost forgotten the incident that brought them together. Now, as the memory of it flashed back into his mind, he gazed more intently at his companion.
As the man himself had intimated, W. Rufus Fairspeckle was one of the wealthiest men in New York City. Mostly through luck and partly through an inborn genius for speculation, he had amassed a huge fortune. At fifty he had retired from business, declaring that he had worked hard all his life and was entitled to a rest and a little diversion. Then he had promptly proceeded to the enjoyment of the pleasures that had been denied him in his youth, and he had gone about it with an avidity that created a great deal of jocular comment and made him known as a very eccentric individual.
“You have a long memory,” observed The Phantom, glancing uneasily at Mr. Fairspeckle’s formal attire. It drew many amused glances from pedestrians, and The Phantom did not care to attract unnecessary attention. “Now, if you will excuse me, I think I will wish you good morning. I have a busy day ahead of me.”
“Not so fast,” protested Mr. Fairspeckle, clutching The Phantom’s sleeve with his long, bony fingers. “You are coming with me.”
The words had a peremptory sound. The Phantom knitted his brows.
“Why, if I may ask?”
“See that cop?” Mr. Fairspeckle pointed to a blue-coated figure half a block ahead. “He’s a hard-working soul and presumably he is ambitious to obtain promotion. The capture of The Gray Phantom would be quite an event in his humdrum life.”
The Phantom sensed a threat. He glanced about him quickly. The streets were rapidly filling with traffic, and to break away might not prove easy. Besides, he was curious to know the reason for Mr. Fairspeckle’s evident determination to detain him. Deciding to adopt the safer course, he simulated an affable smile.
“Suppose we let the hard-working cop earn his promotion some other way,” he suggested. “Where to, Mr. Fairspeckle?”