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CHAPTER XX
THE BEGINNING OF THE NIGHT
George Deaves and Evan sat in the Deaves limousine with the package of bonds between them. Deaves was perspiring and fidgetty, Evan the picture of imperturbability--not but what Evan was excited too, but the display of agitation the other was making put Evan on his mettle to show nothing. The car was lying against the curb on the North side of the Queensboro Bridge Plaza, and they were watching the hands of a clock in a bank building creep to half-past eight.
"Why do you suppose they insisted on our waiting here?" said Deaves querulously.
"Can't say," answered Evan. "I have fancied that some of their orders were just thrown in to mystify us, to undermine our morale. Possibly they stipulated we must leave this point at eight-thirty so they would know exactly when to expect us."
"That man who just pa.s.sed us, how he stared! Do you suppose he could have been one of them?"
"There must be a lot of them then. Everybody stares. Like ourselves, they wonder what we're waiting here for."
On the stroke of the half hour they gave the chauffeur word to proceed out Stonewall avenue. The village of Regina is not a beautiful hamlet.
Its founders had large ideas; they laid off the princ.i.p.al street a hundred feet wide, but the city has its own ideas about the proper width of streets, and when in the course of time the munic.i.p.ality took over Regina it paved but two-thirds of Stonewall avenue, leaving a muddy mora.s.s at each side. The buildings that lined this thoroughfare were something between those of a city slum and those of a Western boom town. They had no difficulty in picking out Beechurst street; the big stone church in its muddy yard was a horror.
They alighted in the middle of the street, for the chauffeur opined that if he fell off the hard pavement he'd never be able to climb back on it. They dismissed him, and watched him turn and roll out of sight.
Deaves shuddered. "I wish I was safe inside!" he murmured.
Evan took careful note of their surroundings. On the corner where they stood was a stationery store, and across Beechurst street was a saloon.
"Someone watching us from in there I'll be bound," thought Evan. If he had been alone he would have gone in. Across Stonewall avenue from the saloon was the church aforementioned, and the fourth corner was vacant.
They turned up Beechurst street, which was swallowed up in unrelieved blackness a few yards ahead.
"I feel as if there were watching eyes on every side of us," said Deaves tremulously.
"They're welcome to look at me if it does them any good," said Evan lightly.
"You carry the package," said Deaves.
"Aren't you afraid I might skip with it?" said Evan teasingly.
Deaves had no humour. He hastily took the package back. Evan chuckled.
The sidewalk ended abruptly, and they took to the centre of the street.
Here they found a rough and stony road grown high with weeds on either hand. Mounds of ashes and tin cans obstructed the way; an automobile would have found it well-nigh impa.s.sable. It wound across that ugly no-man's land between the pavements and the cultivated land. What with his terrors and the tenderness of his feet, Deaves made heavy going over the stones.
To complete his demoralisation, a shrill whistle presently rang out of the dark behind them. Deaves gasped and clutched Evan.
"That's only their signal that all's well," said Evan.
"This is no place for me!" moaned Deaves.
The road became a little smoother, and alongside they saw the neat rows of a market garden. Evan sniffed that curious odor compounded of growing vegetables and fertilizer. Then the road dipped into a hollow and thick bushes rose on either side. The air was sweet of the open countryside here. It was very dark under the bushes. Deaves clung to Evan's arm.
Suddenly they found themselves surrounded by several figures with masked faces. A crisp voice commanded:
"Hands up, gentlemen!"
Deaves obeyed so quickly that the package rolled on the ground.
Somebody sn.i.g.g.e.red. The first voice sternly bade him to be quiet.
Deaves stooped to pick up the precious package. He was ordered to let it lie. Evan and Deaves, their hands aloft, were rapidly and thoroughly frisked for weapons. Deaves gasped with terror when they touched him. The spot was so dark, Evan could make but few observations. He did see though that the men--he counted four of them--were roughly dressed, and from this he deduced that they were from the higher walks of life. Clever and successful crooks nowadays are invariably well-dressed. The rough clothes were in line with the gruff voices the men a.s.sumed. Gruffness could not hide the educated forms of speech that they used.
The search was over in a minute. "Pick up the package, gentlemen, and proceed," ordered the voice. The figures melted away in the darkness.
Evan and Deaves went on. The road rose out of the hollow, and they had more light to pick their tracks. Again a whistle sounded behind them.
"The word is being pa.s.sed along to those in front of us," said Evan.
After the market gardens came a patch of woods. Deaves halted at the edge and peered into the shadows.
"I cannot trust myself in there," he muttered. "I simply cannot!"
"Just as you say," said Evan. "I don't suppose they'll let us back now."
With a groan Deaves started ahead. Evan sniffed the trees gratefully.
In the thick of the woods two figures faced them. White cotton masks over their faces gave them an unearthly look. Deaves tremulously held out the package, and it was taken from his hands. No word was spoken.
One man snapped on an electric flash, and in the disk of light that it threw the other hastily unwrapped the package and examined the bonds.
Now from the white papers a certain amount of light was reflected back on the man who was holding the flash, and Evan studied him attentively.
He was holding a pistol in his other hand. Something familiar in the creases of the suit he wore first arrested Evan's attention. That is to say, these creases suggested the lines of a figure that Evan had often drawn and painted. When in addition he perceived a certain well-remembered involuntary twitching in the figure, amazement and incredulity gave place to certainty.
"Charl!" he cried.
The two masked figures started back. He who held the light took his breath sharply, and Evan knew he was not mistaken. The man with the bonds quickly recovered himself.
"Be quiet!" he sharply commanded.
But Evan in his anger had forgotten prudence. "Charl!" he cried.
"What does this mean? Have you turned crook!"
The other man whispered in a pa.s.sion: "Shoot him if he doesn't shut his mouth!"
"Yes, shoot your partner," cried Evan.
Charley shrunk back.
"Give me the gun and I'll do it," said the other man.
"Weir, for G.o.d's sake, for G.o.d's sake, for G.o.d's sake!" Deaves was gabbling in an ecstasy of terror.
With an effort Evan commanded himself. Nothing was to be gained by making a row there in the woods. Indeed he already saw how foolish he had been to betray his discovery.
The examination of the bonds was concluded. The man who had them spoke to his partner: "These are all right. Hold them here while I start the engine."
Evan, more accustomed now to the darkness of the woods, made out that at the point where they stood the road forked. In the left fork he dimly perceived the form of a car at a few paces distance. The top was down. Presently the engine started, and Evan recognised that it was the same car that had carried him off. The engine had its own rattle.