The Crimson Flash Part 13

But just as he was about to get upon his feet he checked himself and sank back in his place. A vision had struck his eye--a vision of lithe wonder and beauty. It was dancing along a silver wire.

It was Gwen, Queen of the circus. The great tent was totally dark, save for the corner where she practiced. She had arranged a spot light in such a manner that its brilliant rays struck squarely across the tightly drawn wire, and there in that light, which was flashed back by her brilliant costume and her tossing umbrella, she was performing all unconscious that anyone was watching her.

Johnny Thompson thought he was the only onlooker, and perhaps at first he was. If so, it was not for long. Had he but known the nature of that other spectator, he might have leaped to his feet and rushed to warn the queen of her danger. Not knowing, he sat entranced by the wonderful apparition who seemed more a being of another world, or perhaps some tropical bird, as she flitted from end to end of that silver wire. Now she rose straight in air and, seeming to soar aloft, swept down to the wire again. And now she dropped upon her hands to bend and twist in a blinding whirl, while her gleaming parasol spun above her.

"Um," Johnny breathed; then again, "Um!"

But what was that? He thought he detected a stealthy movement to the right of him. It might have been but the swaying of a tent pole shaken by the wind, but he kept his eyes upon the spot for some time. He had concluded it was nothing, and was about to turn his attention to the girl again, when the movement came again, this time closer at hand. At the same time he heard a sound that in a place less quiet to an untrained ear would be nothing at all. To Johnny it spoke of danger--perhaps danger to himself, perhaps to the girl. He thought of the counterfeiters. Did they know he had joined Pant in the task of hunting them down, and realizing his importance as an inside man, had they decided to do away with him at once? Or was this some enemy of the beautiful dancer?

Danger, Johnny had learned, loses much of its terror when squarely faced.

He now threw himself upon the sawdust and began creeping, knife in hand, toward the spot from which the sound had come.

Ten feet he crawled, then paused to listen. In the stillness he heard the occasional creak of the wire, the spatter of the spot light. Then again he caught that gliding sound. It was retreating from him, moving closer to the girl. This time he crept twenty feet or more before he paused.

Again the same sounds greeted his strained ears. Again the gliding sound.

The creature, whether beast or human, traveling faster than he, must be not more than thirty feet from the swinging, swaying girl.

And now, like a flash, his eyes, for a moment relieved from the dancer's dazzling light, saw the creature--a gaunt tawny beast it was, a tiger stalking human prey. For a second Johnny shivered and shrank back. How had this creature escaped? This he could not know. Its purpose was all too evident. Attracted by the gleam of the fairylike figure dancing on the wire, it was thinking only of breaking her bones with its yellow fangs.

Johnny paused for half a minute, then resumed his forward movement.

Poorly armed as he was, he would not allow the beast to have its way unopposed.

Yet, after covering another yard or two, he paused. The girl was ten feet in air. Did the tiger have the power to leap that high? For a tiger of the jungle this would be no feat at all, but for this one of the cage, Johnny was in doubt. And Gwen? Did she have the iron nerve to keep on dancing down the wire with a great yellow beast leaping madly for her feet?

It was a tense moment. Every muscle in his body quivered. The hand that gripped his knife almost crushed the hilt.

The questions that surged through his brain were not long in being answered, for now, in the dim half light about her, the girl saw the beast. For one brief second her eyes were dilated with fear. The parasol, trembling, wavering, almost slipped from her grasp.

Johnny rose on one knee. "If she falls? If she falls?" he breathed silently.

But she did not fall. Seeming to summon all her nerve and strength, she held her parasol high and once more danced gracefully down the wire.

Two hours before this moment in our story, Pant had left the circus grounds, and, crossing a viaduct over the tracks, had made his way down the avenue toward the river. As he cut across the roadway and lost himself down a dark alley near the river, he might have been heard saying to himself:

"The bear, driven from his lair, returns; the rabbit circles back to his brush pile; sometimes crooks return to their rendezvous. I wonder if they will this time? Well, we shall see what we shall see."

He was by this time nearing a long, low-lying building that flanked the river. Before a door which was reached by three downward steps, he paused. All was dark, silent, mysterious. For a moment he listened intently, then after a hasty glance up and down the deserted alley, he darted to a low, narrow window. His efforts to lift the sash were fruitless. Quickly drawing a thin-bladed knife from his pocket, he inserted the blade beneath the catch. There was a click. The next instant Pant had lifted the sash, dived through and closed the window after him.

The room was utterly dark, yet he appeared to have no difficulty in finding his way about the place. Whether he had a previous knowledge of the building, was endowed with an instinctive sense of location of things, or could see in the dark, would have been a question too difficult for a casual thinker to answer. An observer, had there been one, might have said that the room had a strange way of flashing crimson for a fraction of a second, then becoming inky black again.

After moving about for a time, Pant doubled himself up and, creeping into the broad lower part of a dilapidated cupboard, closed the door behind him.

Ten minutes elapsed. A rat scurried over the uneven floor. Another creeping through a hole in the base of the cupboard, began rattling a loose bit of board about. Pant kicked at it. Then all was silent again.

Five minutes more pa.s.sed. Three rats had ventured out upon the floor when, of a sudden, there sounded the rattle of a key in the outer door.

The rats scurried away. Pant caught a quick breath, as he whispered:

"They return!"

A match was struck. A broad, fat face appeared at the door. The man's small, beady eyes peered about the place for a moment, then he whispered back over his shoulder:

"All right. C'm'on."

"Safe?"

"Sure!"

Two other men followed him. One was slim, the other broad shouldered.

Pant almost let fall an exclamation, as he saw that the broad-shouldered one had a ragged ear.

"Perhaps Johnny's right," was his mental comment.

Through a hole left by what had once been a lock on the cupboard door, he could catch every move of the mysterious three.

Gathering around the table they proceeded at once to what appeared to be the task of the night. A flat tin affair was placed on the table. A tin cup from which the handle of a brush protruded was set down close to the pan. A roll of paper was produced. It was while this was being rolled backward and then drawn across the smooth edge of the table to make it straight that Pant felt something touch his hand. Barely checking a start, he held himself rigidly motionless. In an instant he realized that it was only a hungry rat. But in a minute he knew that this was quite bad enough, for the rat began to gnaw at his finger.

In the meantime, in the room the man of the ragged ear had taken the broad brush and moved it several times over the pan. He dipped the brush each time in the cup, as if applying a liquid. The fat man held a sheet of paper as if ready to spread it out upon the pan.

The rat persevered. He had gnawed his way through the tough outer skin of Pant's finger, and had touched tender flesh when, with a sudden quick movement, Pant's thumb closed down. He was not quick enough. The rat, whirling about, was caught only by the tail. With a piercing, almost human scream the rat struggled for freedom.

Instantly the room went dark. In that same instant, a hand groped for the door, behind which Pant was concealed. Pant had hoped to strangle the rat without a sound. In this he had failed. Just what he was in for now, he could not even guess.

CHAPTER IX THE TIGER SPRINGS

In the dim half light, as Johnny crouched in the sawdust ring, knife in hand, he saw the tiger lash his tail as he prepared for a spring. He saw the girl dancing on the wire, twirling her parasol as she danced. His mind whirled. Was this all a dream? Was it but a moving picture flashed upon the screen? He shook himself. No, there were the colors in the girl's costume, the red that came and went in her cheek, and there were the wonderful colors in the coat of that giant cat. It was real, and the cat was preparing for a spring. Should he cry out? Attract the beast's attention, then stand for battle? To do so meant sudden death. No man armed with a knife could hope to defeat a tiger.

On the other hand, what if he waited? Could the tiger leap ten feet in air? If he could, what then? The girl had nerve; Johnny could see that.

There was a strong chance that the tiger could not reach her. He would wait.

Suddenly into that brilliant circle of light there shot upward a tawny, gleaming body. The tiger had leaped square at the girl. Johnny's heart stood still. There came an audible gasp from the girl. The cruel fangs of the beast flashed in the light. Up, up he rose, five feet, six, seven, eight. Now his great paws flashed at the girl's feet. An instant of suspense ended with a gasp of relief. The tiger had missed.

For a fraction of a second the girl teetered on the wire. She seemed about to lose her balance and fall, but she at once regained her composure, and, with a smile upon her lips, such as she threw to admiring spectators, she tripped again along the wire.

"Bravo!" Johnny's lips formed the word, but he did not say it.

Again the tiger crouched for a spring. The girl was gaining self-control.

Estimating the position of the tiger, she tripped away from him. Angered, the tiger roared savagely, gave two short jumps, then leaped straight and high.

With a little cry, half of fear, half of defiance, the girl sprang in air. The next instant the tiger's paw touched the wire. One breathless second the girl appeared to hover in air, then she dropped. Her toe touched the vibrating wire. She slipped. She uttered a low moan.

Just at that moment the spot light blinked suddenly out, leaving the great tent in utter darkness.