CHAPTER XIX
THE LAST SHIFT
The candle burned low; it threw now on grimy floor and wall the shadowsof the two men, one seated at the table, the other not far from it.Before John Steele lay paper and ink, procured from some niche. He hadceased writing; for the moment he leaned back, his vigilant gaze on thefigure near-by. From a corner of the room the rasping sound of a rat,gnawing, broke the stillness, then suddenly ceased.
"Where were you on the night this woman, Amy Gerard, was found dead?"
A momentary expression of surprise, of alarm, crossed the bruised andbattered face; it was succeeded by an angry suspicion that glowed fromthe evil eyes. "You're not trying to fix that job on---"
"You? No."
"Then what did you follow him here for, to pump me? The Yankee that gottransported is--"
"As alive as when he stepped before you in the ring!"
"Alive?" The fellow stared. "Not in England? It was death for him tocome back!"
"Never mind his whereabouts."
The man looked at Steele closer. "Blame, if there isn't something aboutyou that puzzles me," he said.
"What?" laconically.
The fellow shook his head. "And so he's hired you?"
"Not exactly. Although I may say I represent him."
"Well, he got a good one. You know how to use your fists, Mister."
"Better than this 'Frisco Pet did once, eh, Tom?" The man frowned. "Butto return to the subject in hand. That question you seemed afraid toanswer just now was superfluous; I know where you were the night thewoman was shot."
"You do?"
"Yes; you were--" John Steele leaned forward and said something softly.
"How'd you find that out?" asked the man.
"The 'Frisco Pet knew where you were all the time; but did not speak,because he did not wish to get you into trouble. Also, because he didnot know, then, what he long afterward learned,--indirectly!--that youcould have cleared him!"
"Indirectly? I? What do you--?"
"Through your once having dropped a few words. Wine in, wits out!"
The fellow scowled; edged his chair closer.
"Keep where you are!" John Steele's hand touched the revolver now on thetable before him; even as it did so, the room seemed to sway, and it wasonly by a strong effort of will he kept his attention on the matter inhand, fought down the dizziness. "And let's get through with this! Idon't care to waste much more of my time on you."
"You're sure nothing will happen to me, if--" The man watched himcloser.
"This paper need never be made public."
"Then what--"
"That's my business. It might be useful in certain contingencies."
"Such as the police discovering he hadn't gone to Davy Jones' locker?"shrewdly.
John Steele's answer was short, as if he found this verbal contesttrite, paltry, after the physical struggle that had preceded it.
"And what am I to get if I do what you--" The pupils of the fellow'seyes, fastened on him, were now like pin-points.
The other smiled grimly; this bargaining and trafficking with such aman, in a place so foul! It seemed grotesque, incongruous; and yet was,withal, so momentous. He knew just what Rogers should say; what he wouldforce him to do! In his overwrought state he overlooked one or twopoints that would not have escaped him at another time: a certaincraftiness, or low cunning that played occasionally on that disfiguredface.
"What did you say I was to get if--"
"You shall have funds to take you out of the country, and I will engageto get and forward to you the money left in trust. The alternative," hebent forward, "about fifteen years, if the traps--"
The fellow pondered; at last he answered. For a few minutes then JohnSteele wrote, looking up between words. His head bent now closer to thepaper, then drew back from it, as if through a slight uncertainty ofvision or because of the dim light. The fellow's eyes, watching him,lowered.
"You know--none better!--that on that particular night some oneelse--some one besides the 'Frisco Pet--entered your mother's house?"
Oaths mingled with low filchers' slang; but the reply was forthcoming;other questions, too, were answered tentatively; sometimes at length,with repulsive fullness of detail. The speaker hesitated over words,shot sharp, short looks at the other; from the hand that wrote, to thefingers near that other object,--strong, firm fingers that seemed readyto leap; ready to act on any emergency. Unless--a shadow appeared topass over the broad, white brow, the motionless hand to waver, ever solittle. Then quickly the hand moved, rested on the brown handle of theweapon, enveloped it with light careless grasp.
"You can state of your own knowledge what happened next?" John Steelespoke sharply; the fellow's red brows suddenly lifted.
"Oh, yes," he replied readily.
John Steele's manner became shorter; his questions were put fast; heforced quick replies. He not only seemed striving to get through histask as soon as possible; but always to hold the other's attention, topermit his brain no chance to wander from the subject to any other. Butthe fellow seemed now to have become as tractable as before he had beensullen, stubborn; gave his version in his own vernacular, always keenlyattentive, observant of the other's every motion. His strength hadapparently returned; he seemed little the worse for his late encounter.At length came an interval; just for an instant John Steele's eyes shut;the fingers that had held the pen closed on the edge of the table. Aquick passing expression of ferocity hovered at the corners of theobserver's thick lips; he got up; at the same time John Steele rose andstepped abruptly back.
"You know how to write your name?" His voice was firm, unwavering; therevolver had disappeared from the table and lay now in his pocket.
"All right, gov'ner!" The other spoke with alacrity. "I'm game; abargain is a bargain, and I'll take your word for it," leaning over andlaboriously tracing a few letters on the paper. "You'll do your part.You'll find me square and above board, although you did use me a littlerough. There, here's your affadavy."
John Steele moved back to a corner of the room and pulled a wire; insome far-away place a bell rang faintly. "Are----," he spoke a woman'sname, obviously a sobriquet, "and her daughter still here?"
"How?"
"Never mind; answer."
"Yes, they're here, gov'ner. You'll want them for witnesses, I suppose.Well, I'll not be gainsaying you." His tones were loud; conveyed a senseof rough heartiness; the other made no reply.
Not long after, the paper, duly witnessed, lay on the table; thelandlady and her daughter had gone; John Steele only waited for the inkto dry. He had no blotter, or sand; the fluid was old, thick; theprincipal signature in its big strokes, with here and there a splutter,would be unintelligible if the paper were folded now. So he lingered;both men were silent; a few tense minutes passed. John Steele leanedagainst the wall; his temples throbbed; the fog seemed creeping into theroom and yet the door was closed. He moved toward the paper; stillmaintaining an aspect of outward vigilance, took it and held it beforehim as if to examine closer.
The other said nothing, made no movement. When the women had come in,his accents had been almost too frank; the gentleman had called on alittle matter of business; he, Tom Rogers, had voluntarily signed thislittle paper, and they could bear witness to the fact. Now all thatprofanely free air had left him; he stood like a statue, his lipscompressed; his eyes alone were alive, speaking, alert.
John Steele folded the paper and placed it in an inside pocket. Theother suddenly breathed heavily; John Steele, looking at him, walked tothe door leading to the street. He put his hand on the key and was aboutto turn it, but paused. Something without held his attention,--acrunching sound as of a foot on a pebble. It abruptly revived misgivingsthat had assailed him before entering the place, that he had felt as avague weight while dealing with the fellow. The police agent! Time hadpassed, too great an interval, though he had hastened, hastened as besthe might, struggling with his own growing weakness, the other's revivingpower.
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p; Again the sound! Involuntarily he turned his head; it was only aninstant's inattention, but Tom Rogers had been waiting for it. Springingbehind in a flash, he seized John Steele by the throat. It was a deadly,terrible grip; the fingers pressed harder; the other strove, but slowlyfell. As dizziness began to merge into oblivion, Rogers, withoutreleasing his hold, bent over.
"You fool! Did you think I would let you get away with the paper? That Icouldn't see you were about done for?"
He looked at the white face; started to unbutton the coat; as he reachedin, his attention was suddenly arrested; he threw back his head.
"The traps!"
Voices below resounded without.
"So that was your game! Well," savagely, "I think I have settled withyou."
He had but time to run to the rear door, unbolt it and dash out, when acrashing of woodwork filled the place, and Mr. Gillett looked in.
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