XXV--THE OLD WAREHOUSE
Billy Kane's eyes were apparently blinking in the abrupt transition fromdarkness to the glare of light; but with the knowledge that it mightliterally mean the difference between life and death to him--and her--nosingle detail of his surroundings was escaping him. The door ahead ofhim, a heavy, cumbersome affair, opened inwards toward him, and was nowswung full back against the wall, but if the evidence of that iron loopon the door jamb could be trusted, the door was equipped with a massivebolt. Gypsy Joe was still to a large extent blocking the doorway, but hecould see that the huge, lighted space beyond was a sort of storagewarehouse, windowless, of course, or else he would have seen a lightfrom outside. And the switches, the electric-light switches--the one forthe bulb over his head in this passage here, and the one for the lightin that room ahead of him! They were vital too! He could not see any inthe position where he might naturally expect to find them--by the doorwhere Gypsy Joe stood. He glanced back over his shoulder. Yes, there wasone there at the side of the front door, a switch for the passage lightundoubtedly; but Gypsy Joe had certainly not used that one, so theremust be another then, as well, inside the storage room.
He had been perhaps the matter of a bare few seconds in traversing thelength of the passage, and now as he stepped across the threshold intothe warehouse itself, the Cherub and Clarkie Munn had joined Gypsy Joe,and were staring at him with scowling, startled, uncertain faces--butBilly Kane's eyes were not on the three men. The blood seemed to leapthrough his veins in a great surging tide, and upon him was the sense ofa mighty uplift. It was not too late! It was not too late! His brainseemed to seize upon those words and reiterate them in a sing-song way.A woman's form lay upon the floor, and she was bound and gagged; butdark eyes met his, and in the eyes was a softer light than he had everseen there before when they had been fixed on him. "For once," theyseemed to say, "you have not failed. I told you to watch Gypsy Joe andClarkie Munn, and you are just in time."
The Cherub laughed suddenly and a little noisily, as from unstrungnerves.
"Say, youse gave us a jolt!" he said. "Wot's de idea? I suppose yousecame along to make sure dat we earned yer money, eh, an' dat derewouldn't be no fluke about her bein' bumped off fer keeps? Well, ifyouse had been about a minute an' a half later youse'd have missed detrap-door scene, 'cause it'd have been all over."
Billy Kane's eyes had met the girl's again. The soft light in them hadgone, and in its place had come a horror, and sudden accusation, and abitter misery; and her face, already deathly white as she lay there,seemed now to tinge with gray.
Billy Kane shook his head in response to the Cherub, as he turned andfaced the three men. They were edging a little closer to him. He caughta surreptitious nudge that passed between Gypsy Joe and Clarkie Munn. Hemoved back a step--but it was a step that brought him nearer to thegirl. If he could hold them in a state of puzzled suspense with itsconsequent indecision for a moment, that was all he asked. And he wascounting on a sort of frank audaciousness for that.
"Well?" prompted the Cherub, a sudden, curious silkiness in his tones."Did I call de turn?"
"Maybe he's come down to pay us off," suggested Gypsy Joe smoothly."Dere's nothin' slow about de Rat."
"I'll tell you," said Billy Kane quietly. He took his knife from hispocket, and coolly opened it; then nonchalantly, but with a swift, lithemovement, stooped and cut the cords that bound the girl's wrists. Hepressed the knife into her hand--she needed no further hint that shecould free her own ankles--and, as he straightened up again, his eyesswept the wall by the door. Yes, they were there--two electric-lightswitches. He faced the trio again.
"Well, wot do youse know about dat!" observed Clarkie Munn, with anunpleasant grin.
"I'll tell you, Clarkie," Billy Kane lied calmly. "I'm leery thatsomebody's split, and I'm afraid the police know too much. Understand?I'm not taking any chances, and the game's off--that's all."
The Cherub's bland, blue eyes seemed to shade a darker hue.
"Dat's all right, den," said the Cherub sweetly. "But wot about us?Mabbe youse can call de game off if youse likes, 'cause it's yer game,but where does we come in? 'Tain't our fault de job's crimped--dat's upto youse. Does we get paid or not?"
"Dat's de talk, Cherub!" applauded Clarkie Munn, an undisguised snarl inhis voice.
Billy Kane shrugged his shoulders.
"Who said you wouldn't get paid?" he demanded roughly. "We'll attend tothat when we get out of here. Do you want to hang around and getpinched?"
"No," said the Cherub, and smiled. "No, we don't want to getpinched--an' we ain't worryin' none about it either, not about gettin'pinched down here. It's a cinch youse wouldn't have risked comin' hereif de bulls had been followin' a yard behind. We knows youse too wellfer dat, Bundy! Get me? An' youse ain't comin' across when youse getsout of here, youse are comin' across right now! An' youse"--he whirledsuddenly on the girl, who had risen to her feet and was backing towardthe door--"youse stand where youse are! I ain't sure we are through widyouse yet, no matter wot Bundy says--see?" He jerked his head at his twocompanions, though his eyes never for an instant left Billy Kane's face."Wot about it, fellers? If she gets out of here she knows too much, an'we got to fade away outer New York anyway, whether de bulls are on nowor not. An' dat takes de coin--all de coin we can get. Well, de Ratalways carries a wad, but if we pinches it an' lets de Rat looseafterwards he's got a bunch behind him dat'll nose us out where de bullscouldn't, an' we'll get ours. Dat's de size of it. Do we play fer tablestakes, or hedge de bets?"
It was coming now, as Billy Kane had known inevitably that it wouldcome. There was no answer needed from either Clarkie Munn or Gypsy Joe.It was written in the ugly menace in their faces, and had been from themoment they had recovered their startled surprise at his entry into theplace.
Billy Kane flung a quick glance around him. The girl was a little behindhim, close to those electric-light switches, her way clear to the frontdoor, save for the peril of that lighted passage down which she mustrun. In front of him, just out of arm's reach, the Cherub's bland eyessmiled into his with a sort of hideous serenity; while over the Cherub'sshoulders, one on each side, showed the vicious faces of the othertwo--and, under cover of the Cherub's body, Clarkie Munn's hand seemedto be stealing in the direction of his hip pocket.
Billy Kane seemed suddenly to go to pieces and to lose his nerve. Histongue circled his lips with nervous repetition. He put out his hands inan imploring attitude, and stumbled a step forward toward the Cherub,and caught a glint of light on a revolver barrel in Clarkie Munn's hand,as it came stealing now from the latter's pocket.
"Wait--wait a minute, Cherub!" Billy Kane whispered thickly, and lickedat his lips again, and stumbled forward another step. "Wait!" hewhispered--and then, swift as the winking of an eye, Billy Kane flunghis body forward with all his weight upon the Cherub, hurling the Cherubback upon Clarkie Munn, and whirling, whipped a lightning left full intoGypsy Joe's face on the other side. There was a flash, the deafeningroar of a report, as the Cherub reeled into Clarkie Munn's revolver;then a scream of agony, and the Cherub, grasping at his leg with bothhands, went to the floor.
"The switches there--beside you!" Billy Kane shouted at the girl. "Putout the lights--both switches! Quick! Run for it!"
Gypsy Joe, recovering his balance, and with a bellow like a maddenedbull was charging forward; Clarkie Munn's hand had swung upwardagain--and then the place was in darkness. A second late, Clarkie Munn'srevolver cut a vicious flame-tongue through the black, but Billy Kanehad flattened himself out on the floor, and was wriggling rapidlybackward toward the door and the now dark passageway.
There was a moan, then a shrill scream in the Cherub's voice, andcoincidentally a torrent of blasphemy from Gypsy Joe, as the latter,quite obviously, in his rush and in the blackness now, had stumbled nonetoo gently into the wounded man.
"Youse fool! Curse youse, youse fool!" shrieked the Cherub. "Ain't yousegot a pocket torch? Ain't either of youse got a torch? Flash a torch o
nhim, an'----"
Billy Kane was across the threshold now; and now, rising to his knees,he groped out for the edge of the door, found it, and, as he slammed itshut, it seemed to cut in two, as a knife might cut it, the sudden,white, piercing ray of a flashlight that leaped out from the interior ofthe warehouse. And then in another second he had shot the bolt home inits grooves, and, in the darkness, leaning heavily for an instantagainst the door to recover himself, he stared down the black passagefor the girl, and could see nothing.
There came an abortive rush against the door; snarls and oaths camemuffled from within. He moved a step forward along the passage. Theywere a negligible quantity in there now. The door would hold, and whenthey succeeded in getting out and making their way along the side of thedock perhaps, they would be more concerned in getting to coverthemselves than anything else; and besides they would have a wounded manto hamper their movements. It was she now, the Woman in Black, thatconcerned him.
"Where are you?" he called quickly. "Where are you?"
A draft of air touched his face. The front door at the farther end ofthe passage was being opened.
"I am here, Bundy."
It was her voice, but there was something of cold, merciless forbiddingin it. He halted instinctively. He did not quite understand.
"Bundy, are you listening?" came the level tones again. "This is theend, absolutely and finally the end to-night. You have saved my life,but I owe you no thanks for that. You saved it, after hiring thugs totake it, you thing of loathing, because you dared do nothing else, sinceyou say you believe the police got wind enough of this thing tonight toscare you off. Very well, Bundy--but there is more, isn't there, thatthe police do not know? Well, they will know it, and certain secrets inthat den of yours, the moment I can reach them. I have warned you oftenenough. I am through, Bundy, this is the end of the Rat to-night,nothing shall stop that--but I am still a fool. I am still giving youwarning of what I mean to do now. I am still giving you a chance to saveyourself if you can; the rather slim chance that the police will not beable to run the man who was known as the Rat to earth! And I am givingyou that chance because--well because, even in spite of yourself, I amstill alive."
"No!" he cried. "You do not understand. Wait!" He was groping down theblack passage, as he heard the front door shut quickly, and heard afootstep running, receding, outside. "Wait!" he cried again. "For God'ssake, wait!"
There was no answer. He knew there would be none. He had heard herrunning away out there, hadn't he? He reached the door, and lookedout--and hung there hesitant--and called again--and there was no answer.He listened. He could not hear her footsteps any more. There was nosound from anywhere, not even from that warehouse door behind him. Theyweren't hammering on that any more.
And then Billy Kane laughed in a short, bitter, mirthless way, andstarted, running at top speed, in the direction in which he had left hispurloined and dilapidated car. The end! The end of the Rat! He laughedagain in the same bitter mirth, as he ran. It was the end of more thanthat! It was the end of hope--of her--of that love that had come to himupon the thresholds of these strange doors of the night. It was the endof Billy Kane! And whether as the Rat now, or as Billy Kane, the policewould be equally hard upon his trail. He stood in far worse case nowthan on the night of David Ellsworth's murder, for now the underworld,that would be combed for the Rat, and where the Rat was too well knownto have it offer the slightest hope of escaping detection, was closed tohim as a refuge. He knew what she meant to do--to tell her story to thepolice, to expose all the criminal acts and affiliations of the bonafide Rat, and to lead them to the Rat's den, and expose the secrets thatshe had so often hinted were hidden there.
He clenched his hands as he ran. The end! No! Not yet! Not until theyhad him, and they had not got him yet! He did not know which way toturn; but while he still had his freedom there was still the hope ofrunning down the murderer of David Ellsworth--and there were theproceeds of that robbery now, most of them, in the Rat's den. That waswhat seemed to stand out as immediately vital now--to get thosethings--that money and those rubies. He had staked everything on thehope that some day he could hand over to justice both the proceeds ofthat crime and the murderer as well--hand them over _together_, as acomplete vindication of his own name--and even now, in this hour thatseemed blackest of all, he still dared to cling to that hope. He knewwho the murderer was, and he had already recovered a large share of whathad been stolen. He still hoped to find the murderer, and he still hopedto find the remainder of those rubies, and so carry out his originalplan. His jaws locked. His mind was made up. He would go! And, yes, hehad far better than an even chance of getting there in time. She wouldtake longer to reach the police and lead them to the den than it wouldtake him to reach it--thanks to the car that, grim irony! he had stolenon her account. Afterward his position would be desperate enough; butnow, without an instant's loss of time, he had to gain the den and getaway again before they trapped him there.
He reached the car. The old night watchman had evidently retired insidethe building again, for there was no sign of the man. He experienced acertain sense of relief at this, as he cranked the obsolete machine; andthen he was in the driver's seat again, and the car was roaring alongthe road. He drove fast, with mad haste, with reckless disregard for theill-lighted road. There could be no accident comparable in disaster tohis failure to put the miles behind him swiftly enough to insure him thefew minutes leeway he asked for in the den.
He bent over the wheel, tense, rigid, strained. The minutes sped away. Aglimmer of hope came to him for that "afterward." He could use the caragain; get out of the city again before the chase got too hot. He couldcertainly hide in that way during the night, and that would give him thenight in which to think. He had not time to think now--only that as hedrew in toward the centre of the city he must keep as much as possibleto the unfrequented streets, both because he must ignore such a thing asspeed laws, and because he was driving a stolen car.
XXVI--THE LAST PORTAL
Billy Kane had no means of knowing how long he had been, when he finallyleaped from the car at the corner of the lane on the street at the rearof the den. He knew only that, beyond any question of doubt oruncertainty, he had outdistanced her. With a quick glance around him tomake sure that he was not observed, he slipped into the lane; and in aninstant more, through the shed, and the underground tunnel, and thesecret door that so craftily opened on the board joints of the roughpanelling, he had gained the interior of the den. He ran across it,turned on the dangling incandescent over the rickety table, and runningto the street door made sure that it was locked.
He turned then, pushed the bed aside, and pulled up the plank in theflooring that he had loosened once in his search for the secret hidingplaces of the room, and that had since served him in that capacity as aprivate depository of his own. From the aperture he lifted out the handbag containing the banknotes stolen from the Ellsworth vault, and thered flannel sack containing the rubies, which he had torn from aroundthe neck of the Man with the Crutch last night, replaced the plank, setthe bed back in its original position, and carried the hand bag and sackto the table. He opened the bag, tossed in the red flannel sack--andstood for an instant eyeing the bag with a frown of distrust. Heremembered that it did not close very well, that he had bent the catcheswith his steel jimmy that night when he had forced the bag open in theroom of the Man with the Crutch, and that it was now quite liable togape apart without warning--in which case, should the contents be seenby anyone, and they could not help but be seen if such an accidentshould occur in the presence of anyone within eyeshot, it would belikely to prove, not only awkward, but disastrous for the possessor ofthe bag. His frown cleared. There was still room in the bag for, say, ashirt; and, than a shirt there was nothing better to disguise thecontents underneath.
He walked over to the old bureau, that was flanked on one side by thesecret door to the den, and on the other by the cretonne hanging that,stretched diagonally across the corner of the room, served
the Rat as awardrobe. There was the shirt that he had worn on the night when he hadfirst come here, the night he had been wounded by the police. WhitieJack had washed the blood stains out, and had shoved it in the topbureau drawer.
He pulled the drawer open, bent over it, reached in for the shirt,straightened up--and the shirt dropped from his fingers. He did notmove. Something cold, and round, and hard was pressed none too gentlyagainst the nape of his neck. His eyes had lifted to the mirror in frontof him mechanically, and he stood there staring into it now like a mandazed and numbed. An arm was stretched out from behind the cretonnecurtains, and a hand held a revolver against his head. It was like someuncanny moving picture that he was watching. For now the cretonnehanging moved; and now a figure moved out from behind the hanging, andstood behind him, Billy Kane, and stared, too, into the mirror, overhis, Billy Kane's, shoulder. There were two faces in the glass now, twofaces that in form and features seemed identical--or else it was somestrange mirage that caused a double reflection of his own face. And thenone of the faces smiled malevolently, leeringly. It wasn't his own facethat smiled. He wasn't smiling--though his lips moved.
"The Rat!" he said, below his breath.
He felt a hand slip into his pocket, and remove his automatic. And thenthe other spoke:
"Remarkable resemblance, isn't it--Billy Kane? And the recognitionappears to be mutual--Billy Kane! I've been waiting here quite a whilefor you this evening."
Billy Kane did not answer. The Rat! The Rat was back! It was the moment,arrived at last, that had haunted him from the moment he had taken uponhimself the other's personality here in the underworld; but though hewas more at the other's mercy with that revolver muzzle boring into hisneck, more helpless than he had thought to be when this time shouldarrive, more powerless where, instead, he had told himself a hundredtimes that at the worst it could be but a fight man to man, he foundhimself far more unmoved now than he had anticipated he would be. Hefound himself curiously composed. There seemed even a grim, sardonichumor stirring in his soul. What did it matter now? To-night he had nofurther use for the Rat's mantle--she had seen to that by now. To-nightthe whole house of cards had toppled anyway, and the ultimate worst hadhappened, save only that the police had not yet got their steelbracelets around his wrists. And yet there was a significance in thecold menace of the other's tone, and a still deeper significance, thathe did not like, in the other's ostentatious repetition of his, BillyKane's, name. It was obvious that Billy Kane was no stranger to the Rat!
"Get back to that table, and sit down there!" ordered the Rat curtly.
Billy Kane, because he had no choice, obeyed. It was like some weird,extravagant hallucination of the brain. He was looking up from his chairinto what seemed to be his own face--only as he studied it now,fascinated by it, he saw what no mirror had ever shown him was a part ofhis own identity. The face was a little older, a little more drawn, andthere was an expression in the eyes, a smoldering something, a devil'smalignity that burned out through the half-closed lids, leaving thepupils like fever spots behind. And he remembered now that she hadcommented upon the freshness of his face on that first night when theyhad met.
"You fool!" sneered the Rat suddenly. "So you played the Rat, did you?And did you think I didn't know? Well, you seem to have liked it--BillyKane--and so I guess you'd better finish out the act, and play it untilthe end. You can manage that, can't you--say, for another tenminutes--until the Rat is dead!"
Billy Kane's hands tightened on the table edge. It was not only thewords, it was the eyes, and the face that were working now, that seemedto possess some deadly eloquence.
"What do you mean?" Billy Kane steadied his voice.
"It won't take long to tell you," said the Rat roughly. "You've beenhere long enough to know that apart from the old cobbler and his wifeupstairs, who mind their own business and are always deaf when theydon't want to hear, this place is sound-proof to revolver shots. Well,the game is up to-night. Your game--and my game! I've got one or twolittle things to do here, and then I'm going; but I'm going to leave theRat behind--dead."
Billy Kane's fingers began to drum a light tattoo on the table. It wasstrange that he could force his fingers to do that with an air of suchapparent unconcern. He was laboring under no delusions. He was fullyconscious that there was no bluff in the other's words, that he wasactually sitting there and facing death in the most literal sense of theterm. The Rat's reputation was quite enough in itself to make it certainthat the man would not hesitate in putting his threat into execution.And then, besides, there were strange stirrings in his mind now thatwere not comforting things. The Rat, cognizant of it all the time, haddeliberately let him, Billy Kane, play the role--and the drama was toend with the Rat's death. It seemed horribly logical. It would let theRat out of _her_ clutches to-night, for instance, and leave only a deadRat as prey for the police. He started involuntarily. Was that it? Hisfingers stopped their movements. Suppose he warned the Rat that thepolice were coming now? No! That would only cause the Rat to hurry--andto shoot the sooner. Well then, suppose the police found _two_ Ratshere? It would not save Billy Kane, but it would end the career of oneof the most infamous scoundrels in the United States--and it would payhis debt to her! If he could only stave the man off a little, fence fortime!
He could have laughed out wildly at the mocking irony of it. He waspraying now for the police to come! She would lead them, or some ofthem, through that secret door, wouldn't she?--though they would guardboth doors, take no chances, even while they would hardly expect to findanyone here. The Rat was standing with his back to the secret door, andBilly Kane's eyes swept past the other now in a well-simulated vacant,wavering way--and fell again upon the Rat.
The man was leaning a little farther over the table now, his lips partedin a vicious smile. It was as though, innate in the other, was an unholyjoy to be derived from a victim's plight, a joy that he sought toaugment by making his victim writhe the more if he could.
"And so you played the Rat, did you?" The Rat was sneering again. "Well,you found out a lot more than was good for you, didn't you? There was awoman, wasn't there? Maybe she didn't introduce herself because shethought you knew her well enough; but maybe you're entitled to knowsomething about her, because she's one of the reasons why you're goingto snuff out in a few minutes." His voice rose suddenly in a furiousburst of blasphemy. "Blast her!" he snarled. "She went too far! Shethought she could make me dance every time she cracked her little whip,did she? She'll wish now, if there's any wishing where she's gone, thatshe'd stayed up on the Avenue with the rest of the swells where shebelongs, and left her infernal, nosey charities on the East Side alone.Margaret Blaine--the banker's daughter! Ha, ha! She had it in for mebecause a girl she was interested in down here went and jumped in theriver. See? She swore she'd put me through one way or another for that.And then she stumbled on a pal of mine the night he croaked off, andfound some papers on him that put me to the bad for fair. And that wisedher up to a lot more. And then, curse her, she tumbled to the game here,and--well, I guess you know the hand she played." He laughed raucously."I guess you'd ought to! But you needn't worry about it any more! She'sgone out--Billy Kane--understand? She went out--for keeps--at teno'clock to-night."
Billy Kane's eyes stole to the secret door again. He remembered thefascination with which he had watched it slowly open on the night he hadlain there on the bed, and Karlin, in the hands of the police now, hadsat at the bedside, and Red Vallon had been here at the table. And itseemed now as though the door moved again as it had moved that night.But he could not be sure. Perhaps it was his imagination that was fatherto the wish--and he dared not look steadily, or too long in thatdirection.
He brushed his hand across his eyes. He understood well enough now whythe Rat had been indifferent to what Shaky Liz, or the Cherub, or any ofthem, might hold over him--there would be no Rat, if he, Billy Kane, inthe Rat's stead, were murdered. And the Rat believed, of course, thatshe--her name was Margaret--Margaret Blaine--that she was de
ad. But he,Billy Kane, was playing for time, wasn't he? And the Rat, in his hideouspropensity for a cat-and-mouse game, seemed quite willing to talk.
"You killed her!" Billy Kane's ejaculation was one of stunnedincredulity. "But--but she threatened me, when she thought I was you, bysaying that if anything happened to her the evidence against you wouldbe produced just the same."
"Sure, she did!" leered the Rat. "In twenty-four hours after herdisappearance. And it'll be twenty-four hours all right before they haveany proof of that. It wasn't pulled off where a howl would go up tenminutes after she snuffed out! Sure, in twenty-four hours! Well, I'm inno hurry, am I? In twenty-four _minutes_ the Rat--that's you--won't needto care what busts loose! It'll save _me_ a lot of trouble if they findthe Rat sprawled out on the floor with a bullet through him, won't it?"
The door! Had it moved inward a bare fraction of an inch, as it had thatother night? There would have been time by now, just time, for her andthe police to have got here. Was that a widening crack along that panelthere--or only a shadow flung with taunting malice by the murky light?No--it moved now! He was sure of it. It moved!
He forced himself to laugh in a short, nervous way.
"I don't see how that lets you out," he mumbled. "What's to become ofyou if the Rat's found dead?"
The Rat was moving back from the table to the side wall of the den.
"I'll show you," said the Rat, with an ugly grin. "And don't move--youunderstand? I'm a dead shot, and I'm not risking anything by being a fewfeet farther away. You'd only go out a little sooner, and miss somethingthat'll maybe sweeten your last moments--see?" His revolver stillcovering Billy Kane, he raised his left hand and pressed against thewall. A small panel door swung outward. "There's nothing in there!"mocked the Rat. "That's the secret she was forever talking about havingdiscovered, and that's the place she looted all right, and where she gotthe dope about a lot of our plans, and kept me from wising up the crowdabout it in order to save my own skin. But there's a thing or two shedidn't know." His hand crept farther along the wall, and pressedsuddenly against it again, and now a full board-length of the panellingslid away. Something metallic fell with a thud to the floor--and thenBilly Kane was on his feet, clinging with a fierce, unconscious grip tothe table.
He had forgotten the police and that secret door at the far end of theroom, forgotten the peril in which he stood, forgotten that ugly blackmuzzle of a revolver in the other's hand. His mind and brain seemed tobe reeling. Some inhuman devil's trick was being played upon him. Thatwas one of those iron crutch shafts, painted to resemble grained wood,that the Rat was picking up--yes, and fitting it now with deft,accustomed fingers to the armpiece! The Rat--the Man with theCrutch--the murderer of David Ellsworth--the man whose very role he hadtaken upon himself and played!
"You!" he cried, and swayed at the table. And then passion seized him."You hound of hell!" he shouted hoarsely. "The Man with the Crutch--itwas you who killed David Ellsworth!"
"Sit down!" The Rat's lips were thinned, merciless; the revolver edgedforward. "Well, what about it! Why don't you say Peters, too? You stuckyour nose pretty deep into that!"
Billy Kane mechanically sank back in his chair.
"So you've got it, have you?" jeered the Rat. "Sure, the Man with theCrutch was me! And you, you fool, through your cursed interference withRed Vallon, put the police on my trail for Peters' murder. Well, I'mgoing to let you be the Man with the Crutch too--as well as the Rat.That'll let me out on both counts!" He stood the crutch up against thewall, and from the opening drew forth some clothes and flung them downbeside the crutch. "Get the idea? This is the costume that goes with thecrutch--sort of reserve stock. Understand? It wasn't always convenientto come here as the Rat, or leave here as the Man with the Crutch--orthe other way around, if you like. I'll leave the stuff there whereit'll show up, and the police can put two and two together the same asyou have. And that answers your question as to what is to become of me.I am a gentleman of several parts, and I can spare _two_ of them. What'sleft is none of your business, and anyway I'm getting tired of this, andI'm pretty near ready to go. But there's one thing more--there were somerubies you were looking for, weren't there, besides the ones you've beentaking charge of and so kindly placed in that bag there a few minutesago without giving me the trouble of making you hand them over?" Againhis left hand, thrust back of him, sought the interior of the opening,and came out with a number of small plush trays piled one on top ofanother, the topmost flashing and scintillating now with its score offiery, blood-red stones. "You were looking for these, weren't you?"prodded the Rat, with a chuckle. "Well, you had 'em here with you allthe time!"
Billy Kane was fighting desperately for self-control. Could they hearoutside there? The man was condemning himself out of his own mouth! God,could they _hear_ out there--did they understand that this man hadmurdered David Ellsworth, and that Billy Kane was clear! He met theRat's eyes with deliberate defiance now. More! Everything! The man mustbe led into telling everything--he had not told enough yet to make itsure--and perhaps they had not heard it all.
"And Peters," he rasped out. "You killed Peters, too--Peters, who helpedyou kill David Ellsworth! Weren't you satisfied with your share, thatyou had to steal his?"
The Rat had advanced to the table, and, setting down the trays, alwayswith his revolver covering Billy Kane, had begun to pour the contents ofone tray at a time into the open hand bag. He stopped now, and stared atBilly Kane in a sort of contemptuous surprise.
"So that's the way you doped it out, is it?" he said, and laughedraucously. "And you're kind to Peters, aren't you? Peters, who wouldn'tharm a fly! I killed Peters because his evidence at the inquest finishedBilly Kane for fair, and I didn't want that evidence changed. It was_me_ Peters saw coming down the back stairs and entering the librarythat night--only he thought it was you. Do you take me for a fool? Iknew you'd see the report in the papers, and that, knowing there wassomething wrong about Peters' story, you'd hunt Peters out and have ashow-down, and that between you there was a chance of you getting atmore of the truth than I wanted, and that Peters would then retract hisevidence. Get me?
"I wasn't for letting you out. I'd been banking on you to do a lot forme. The only guy that was in with me on that deal was Jackson--and he'sdead--just as the Rat is going to be. I spotted you long ago when youused to nose around here for that old fool who pitched his money away. Iwatched you quite a while before I was dead sure I could pass foryou--and then I warmed up to Jackson. The rest was easy. We croaked oldEllsworth, and planted you. That gave me the coin I wanted to do what Iwas getting ready for--to pull out of this Rat's game forever. It wasgetting too fierce with that cursed woman on my heels. So before Ipulled the Ellsworth trick, I set things going to get her too, andpassed the word around that I was going away for a while, so's there'dbe no chance of her tumbling to anything--and I stood pat as the Manwith the Crutch. And then you acted like a Christmas tree shaking itselfin my lap. There were a lot of things coming along with certain friendsof mine, and with you playing the Rat and getting away with it, and withyou there to stand for it if anything broke wrong, it looked like acinch to nose them out at the tape on the little deals I'd started forthem, and that would let me get away with the whole wad myself. See?"
The Rat was pouring the rubies from the trays into the hand bag again,his eyes glinting with a curious rapacious craftiness; and then, comingto one of the trays whose corner had been cut off, he laughed outrightin a sort of self-complacent mirth.
"Do you remember this?" he taunted. "The night I croaked old Ellsworth Ibeat it for here on the quiet the minute I left the house, and I put thetrays and half of the stones into that hiding place there, and then Ichanged my clothes and wore my crutch over to where I lived when Iwasn't at home here, and hid the rest of the stuff there. You know that,all right! Blast you, you got it, and you nearly queered me! The Rat wassupposed to be away then--see? Well, that night when I was limpingaround with my crutch, I was told the Rat was back--and it didn't tak
eme long to find out your game. It looked like a piece of luck that wastoo good to be true! It suited me--I was for it hard. The only thing Iwas afraid of was that you might quit, so I left that ruby and the pieceof tray for you on the table. I thought I knew you. It would give you astart, all right--but it would look as though this was where you weregoing to get the clue you needed, and you'd stick for fair."
The Rat attempted to close the bag, and snarled at the bent catches. Hefinally fastened one of them partially, tossed the bag on the floorbehind him, and, his face suddenly working again, flung his revolver armout toward Billy Kane.
"If you've got anything to say before you go out--say it!" He was bitingoff his words. "Don't think that because I've been talking a lot to youthat I'm bluffing. I wouldn't have opened up if I'd been bluffing, wouldI? And, besides, there's another count on which you're due to snuff out.The game's up all around. I stalled on ringing down the curtain on thegirl and on you as long as I thought there was a chance of my gettingsomething out of those schemes that you kept butting in on. But youqueered that, too, away back on the night you put Karlin in bad, and thepolice got him. Karlin's begun to weaken and talk a little. That's thefinish of the gang, and any more pickings for me. Sooner or laterKarlin'll spill everything he knows, and he knows a lot, to savehimself; and then they'll be looking for the Rat on several othercounts. So I passed the word to put the game with the girl through forto-night--while I took care of you."
Billy Kane felt his face whiten. He knew that round, black muzzle wouldspit its tongue-flame in a moment. With the Rat's hand around it, itseemed curiously like the head of a snake that was coiled to strike. Hadthey heard out there? Here was the bag that contained everything, allthat had been taken from David Ellsworth's vault, and here was themurderer, self-confessed. Had they heard? Had she heard? Would theyremember, would _she_ remember that Billy Kane's name was cleared? Andif they were out there, why didn't they come in? Were they going tostand there and see him shot down--see another murder committed? No! Heunderstood. The slightest sound from the direction of that secret doorwould be but the signal for the Rat to fire. It was up tohim--somehow--some way--to give them a chance to act. It was up to himin some way to beat the Rat to that first shot, that would not bedelayed many seconds now.
He eyed the Rat for a moment steadily; appraised again the cold-blooded,callous implacability in the other's face--and then Billy Kane squaredhis shoulders, and his hands on the table slid back a little until thethumbs extended over the edge, and he laughed coolly.
"It's the limit, is it, Bundy?" he said quietly. "Well, then, I'll takeit standing up, you cur, if you don't mind."
The Rat nodded indifferently.
It seemed as though Billy Kane, for all his apparent coolness andcomposure, was not equal to his self-appointed task. He half rose to hisfeet, and sank back heavily in his chair again, and his hands, as thoughto steady himself, clutched with seemingly desperate energy farther overthe table's edge--and then, in a flash, the table was in mid-air betweenthe two men, and, as it hurtled forward, Billy Kane, crouched low,leaped for the other, as the Rat, with an oath, sprang to one side toavoid the table.
A red flame blinded Billy Kane's eyes, an acrid smell filled hisnostrils, and seemed to stifle him, and make his head swim dizzily, andhis left side seemed curiously numb and dead, but his hands had reachedtheir mark, and had closed like steel vises around the Rat's throat. Andhe hung there, hung there because a fury and a seething passion gave himsuperhuman strength--hung there as cries resounded through the room, andthere came the rush of feet--hung there as he crashed downward to thefloor dragging the Rat with him--hung there as an utter blackness cameand settled upon him.
----
It was strange and very curious. He opened his eyes. He was in bed, andsomeone was sitting there very quietly, with head bent over and restingon the back of his outstretched hand. He tried to remember. He shouldhave been on the floor in the den, shouldn't he? And where was the Rat?Had they got the Rat? His eyes opened a little wider. That dark headthere seemed strangely familiar. His side hurt him brutally. Heremembered that shot now. A sort of grim humor came upon him. He wasback where he had started from on that first night in the underworld--inbed with a pistol-shot wound. The Rat must have got him after all. Butthe Rat--the Rat! He started up in bed involuntarily.
There came a little cry. The dark head was raised. It was the Woman inBlack. No, that wasn't her name. It was Margaret--Margaret Blaine. Hewanted to call her that. He tried to speak. He was very weak.
"You mustn't try to move," she said softly. "You have been very badlyhurt, though, thank God, not dangerously so. And it's all right--I knowyou want to know that. They've got the Rat--for the murder of DavidEllsworth. We heard it all last night, and did not dare to move while hekept that revolver on you, and I was mad with fear."
"Yes," said Billy Kane weakly. "It's morning now, isn't it?"
Cool fingers closed his lips.
"Yes, but don't talk," she said, with a sudden attempt at severity--and,as suddenly, her eyes filled with tears. "Oh, I did not know lastnight--I did not understand--and you risked your life to save mine."
Her life! He was not so weak but that he could understand that. His handgroped out for hers. It seemed as though he had always loved her--onlythose strange doors of the night had stood between. But now--now therewas something in her eyes, behind that film of tears and those wetlashes, that made him dare.
"Your life! Would you trust me with it again--for always?" he whispered.
Again the cool fingers closed his lips.
"Billy, you are to be absolutely quiet," she said. "Those are the verystrictest orders."
But her head was nestling on the pillow against his cheek, and there wasa great gladness in his heart.
THE END
----
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