Quill's Window Part 43

Another stone struck below his feet.

"Hey!" he yelled. "Let up on that! Do you want to kill me? Cut it out! I can't get away, you d.a.m.ned fool! You've got me cornered."

His voice was high and shrill.

The answer was another stone which grazed his leg.

A moment later he reached over and felt along the floor of the cave for the final hold. Finding it, he drew himself up over the edge and crawled, weak and half fainting, out of range of the devilish marksman.

For a long time he lay still, gasping for breath. They had him cold!

There was no use in trying to think of a way out of his difficulty.

All he wanted now was to rest, a chance to pull himself together. After all was said and done, what were a few years in the penitentiary?

He was young. Five years--even ten,--what were they at his time of life? He would be thirty-five, at the most forty, when he came out, and as fit as he was when he went in.

"It was all my fault anyway," he reflected bitterly. "If I had let Madge alone I--Oh,--what's the use belly-aching now! That's all over,--and here am I, paying pretty blamed dearly for a month's pleasure. They've got me. There's no way out of it now. Jail!

Well, worse things could happen than that. What will mother think?

I suppose it will hurt like the devil. But she could have fixed this if she'd loosened up a bit. She could have gone to Washington as I told her to do and--h.e.l.l, it wouldn't have cost her half as much as it will to defend me in court. She can't get a decent lawyer under--well, G.o.d knows how many thousands."

He sat up and unb.u.t.toned his overcoat in order to feel of the spot where the stone had struck him. He winced a little. After a moment's reflection he drew a box of matches from his pocket.

"No harm in striking a match now," he chattered aloud. "I may as well see what sort of a place it is."

He crawled farther back in the cave, out of the wind, and struck a match. His hand shook violently, his chin quivered. During the life of the brief flare, the interior of Quill's Window was revealed to him. The cave was perhaps twenty feet deep and almost as wide at the front, with an uneven, receding roof and a flat floor that dropped at no inconsiderable slant toward the rear. It appeared to be empty except for the remains of two or three broken-up boxes over against one of the walls. He struck a second match to light a cigarette, continuing his scrutiny while the tiny blaze lasted.

He saw no bones, no ghastly skulls, no signs of the ancient tragedies that made the place abhorrent.

He crawled back to the entrance. Lying flat, he peered over the ledge.

"Hallo, down there!" he called out. No response. He shouted once more, his voice cracking a little.

"Where are you?"

This time he got an answer. A hoa.r.s.e voice replied:

"I'm here, all right."

Thane forced a laugh.

"Well, I'm up here, all right. You've got me treed. What's the idea? Waiting for me to come down?" No answer, "Say, it's worth a lot of money to you if you'll just walk on and forget that I'm up here. I'll give you my word of honour to come across with enough to put you on easy street for the rest of your life." He heard the man below walking up and down the path.

"Did you hear what I said? You can't pick up twenty-five thousand every day, you know." He waited for the response that never came.

"Honesty isn't always the best policy. Think it over." Another long silence. Then: "I suppose you know the government does not pay any reward." Still that heavy, steady tread. "If you think I'm going to come down you're jolly well off your nut." He wriggled nearer the edge and peered over. The black form shuttled restlessly back and forth past the foot of the ladder, for all the world like a lion in its cage. Presently it moved off toward the bend at the corner of the cliff, where it stopped, still in view of the man above,--a vague, shapeless object in the faint light of the moon.

Many minutes pa.s.sed. Ten, fifteen,--they seemed hours to the trapped fugitive,--and then he heard a voice, suppressed but distinct.

"Who's there?"

There was a moment's silence, and then another voice replied, but he could not make out the words.

The man stepped out of sight around the bend. A few seconds later, Thane heard a jumble of voices. Drawing away from the ledge, he slunk deeper into the cave. He heard some one running along the trail, and a m.u.f.fled voice giving directions. He drew a deep, long breath.

"The death watch, eh?" he muttered. "They're going to sit there till I have to come out. Like vultures. They haven't the nerve to come up here after me. The rotten cowards!"

Then he heard something that caused him to start up in a sort of panic. He stood half erect, crouching back against the wall, his eyes glued on the opening, his hand fumbling nervously for the revolver in his pocket.

Some one was climbing up the cliff!

CHAPTER XXIII

A MESSAGE AND ITS ANSWER

Charlie Webster met Alix at the ferry. The body of the drowned girl had been removed to Hart's Undertaking Parlours and Expert Carpenter's Shop in obedience to the County Coroner's instructions by telephone.

The fat man was so overcome by excitement he could hardly speak.

Sitting beside Alix in the automobile, he rattled on at a great rate about the extraordinary turn of affairs, and it was not until they were nearly home that he discovered she was sobbing quietly in her corner of the car.

"Gosh, what are you crying for, Alix?" he demanded. "It's the greatest piece of good fortune that ever--"

"I am thinking of poor Mrs. Vick," she murmured chokingly.

"Oh! Yes, that's right. It's terrible for that poor woman. Terrible.

As I was saying, the last anybody saw of him was when he started for the Tavern. Gilfillan follered him part ways and then went back to the ferry, never dreaming he--But didn't I tell you that before? I'm so upset I don't seem to remember what I--Oh, yes, now I know where I was. The detectives insisted on searching every room in the Tavern. Angie Miller got as sore as a boiled lobster when they knocked on her door and asked if he was in her room. You ought to have heard what she said to 'em from behind the door when she finally opened it and let 'em in,--and she nearly had a fit when she saw old Tintype was with 'em. She lit into him,--my gosh, how she lit into him! Accused him of suspecting her of having an erudite affair with Courtney,--erudite wasn't the word she used, but it don't matter, it's as good as any for an old maid. We searched everywhere, but no sign of him. You needn't be surprised to find one of the detectives hanging around your place, Alix. They think maybe he'll turn up there before long."

"He can't be very far away," said she suddenly aroused to anxiety.

She had ceased crying and was drying her eyes with her handkerchief.

The car was nearing the entrance to her grounds. "He wouldn't dare come to my house after--after what I said to him tonight. He could not expect me to help him in any--"

"Well, you see, it's barely possible he don't know they're after him, Alix. I guess maybe I'd better stay here for a while. You won't be so nervous with me in the house."

"I am not afraid, Charlie. Of course, I am terribly unstrung and unhappy over poor little Rosabel,--but I am not afraid of HIM. He will not come here. Tell me again just what he is accused of doing."

The car had drawn up under the porte-cochere. Webster repeated the story he had had from Gilfillan. She sat perfectly still during the lengthy recital.

"And to think--" she began, but checked the words in time. "Oh, what fools we have been, Charlie!"

"Anyhow," said Charlie, divining her thoughts, "there's a good deal to be said for that saying, 'All's well that ends well.' I've been thinking what a difference there is in men. Now, take for instance David Strong. Just stack him up alongside this slick, smooth-talking--"

"Oh, Charlie!" It was almost a wail.

He took her hand in one of his and gently patted it with the other.

"I guess you'd kind of like to see Davy for a change, wouldn't you, Alix?"

She caught her breath sharply, as if in pain.

"Now, there's a feller," went on Charlie after a moment, "that's all wool and a yard wide. He--"