The Gray Mask Part 31

What to do, indeed! Garth thrust his hands in his pockets. He stared helplessly up the street. His glance rested on the corner house of the next block where last night the man in the fur coat had left the first coin. Suddenly his breath sharpened. His mind, planning blindly, paused, drew back, dared again to face the single chance that had risen from the shadows of the corner house.

He wet his lips. He touched the inspector's shoulder. He understood that on a bare possibility he would place his entire career in the scales.

Since, however, it balanced Nora's rescue from such unspeakable hands, he did not hesitate.

"Chief," he whispered, "take your men back to the station house and keep them ready. I'll telephone you there in a few minutes, fifteen or twenty at the outside."

"What are you going to do, Garth?"

"Take one chance to get Nora back," he answered quickly, "probably say good-bye to New York. It was something I thought of last night. It seemed common sense to forget it this morning. Now I'm going to make sure. No time to talk."

CHAPTER XII

THE HIDDEN DOOR

He ran swiftly west, past the house on the corner, past the areaway where he had secreted himself last night, into Park Avenue, always on the course taken by the limousine. And, when he came to Black's number, he saw the limousine drawn up, waiting. In the upper story of the small but expensive house lights burned. He pressed the electric b.u.t.ton, sighing his relief. He was grimly determined to see the thing through.

His resolution was stimulated by his memory of the queue, coiled like a serpent, watching to strike with fangs bearing the poison of degradation and death. Nora stood within reach of that, perhaps, was already its victim. So when the door was opened by a sleek serving-man, he did not hesitate.

"I must see Mr. Black."

The servant displayed a mild astonishment at his tone.

"I'm sorry, sir. Mr. Black is not at home."

The lights he had noticed upstairs and the limousine gave Garth confidence.

"Mr. Black," he said, "is the brother-in-law of the president of the Society for Social Justice."

The servant nodded.

"Then he will see me."

The other was shocked.

"Really, sir--"

Garth gave him a glimpse of his badge, pushed past, and entered the reception hall. The servant turned, staring at him with insolent eyes.

"You'll have to get out of here. Mr. Black has no official connection with the society. What do you mean by forcing--"

Garth called:

"Mr. Black! Mr. Black!"

The servant tried to catch his arm.

"This is outrageous."

"Mr. Black!" Garth called again.

And the response he had prayed for, the response he had made up his mind to force at all hazards, came quavering from the upper floor.

"Who is that? What's all this row, Arnold?"

Garth sprang up the stairs, eager and relieved at the quality of the voice. The young man of the limousine stood at the head, bending anxiously over, backed against the railing, as if to repel an a.s.sault.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Black," Garth said hurriedly. "I have to speak to you about something too important for delay."

He paused, embarra.s.sed, reluctant to go on, for in the brightly lighted doorway of the living-room a woman had appeared, small, with an extraordinary grace of figure, and a face which, in a trivial, light-hearted way, impressed him as rarely beautiful. She wore evening dress. A wrap was draped across her arm. Her resemblance to Manford established her ident.i.ty beyond debate. She glanced at Garth with an amused curiosity quite at variance with her husband's emotion. She smiled tolerantly.

"Quite like a bearer of evil tidings in a play, but even they don't come upstairs, unannounced."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Black," Garth said apologetically. "Your man drew the long bow. I couldn't be put off."

But the smiling, graceful figure was a defence, almost incontestable.

Nothing short of Nora's danger could have armed him to overcome it. He would, however, spare Black's wife as far as possible.

"I wanted to speak to you, Mr. Black, privately."

He turned back to the woman.

"You see I come from your brother, the head of the Society for Social Justice."

"What can he want at this time of night?" she said.

She advanced to the head of the staircase.

"It makes no difference, John. You weren't coming anyway. I'll tell Aunt Sarah why--business!"

She laughed lightly and pa.s.sed on down the stairs.

Garth breathed more freely. He waited until the front door had slammed, until he had heard the motor whir, until he was sure she was started for her reception or dance, unsuspecting the desolation he had brought into her home. Then he swung on Black.

"Come in here."

He indicated the living-room.

Black followed with uncertain steps. The light shone on his sallow face out of which heavy eyes looked distrustfully.

"What do you want?" he asked. "What does Manford want?"

"Don't trouble to sit down, Mr. Black," Garth directed. "I've little time--just enough to tell you that I'm on to you."

Black with an odd, halting motion reached the centre table. His fingers shaking, he lifted a cigarette from a silver box and essayed to strike a match. The wood splintered. He fumbled aimlessly about the table. He took the unlighted cigarette from his mouth. He stammered.