There were no shades at the window, as I have before said, and, once
Sweetwater’s eye had reached the level of the sill, he could see the interior
without the least difficulty. There was nobody there. The lamp burned on a
great table littered with papers, but the rude cane-chair before it was empty,
and so was the room. He could see into every corner of it and there was not
even a hiding-place where anybody could remain concealed. Sweetwater was still
looking, when the lamp, which had been burning with considerable smoke, flared
up and went out. Sweetwater uttered an ejaculation, and, finding himself face
to face with utter darkness, slid from his perch to the ground.
Approaching Mr. Grey for the second time, he said:
“I can not understand it. The fellow is either lying low, or he’s gone out,
leaving his lamp to go out, too. But whose is the horse—just excuse me
while I tie him up again. It looks like the one he was driving to-day. It is
the one. Well, he won’t leave him here all night. Shall we lie low and wait for
him to come and unhitch this animal? Or do you prefer to return to the hotel?”
Mr. Grey was slow in answering. Finally he said:
“The man may suspect our intention. You can never tell anything about such
fellows as he. He may have caught some unexpected glimpse of me or simply heard
that I was in town. If he’s the man I think him, he has reasons for avoiding me
which I can very well understand. Let us go back,—not to the hotel, I
must see this adventure through tonight,—but far enough for him to think
we have given up all idea of routing him out to-night. Perhaps that is all he
is waiting for. You can steal back—”
“Excuse me,” said Sweetwater, “but I know a better dodge than that. We’ll
circumvent him. We passed a boat-house on our way down here. I’ll just drive
you up, procure a boat, and bring you back here by water. I don’t believe that
he will expect that, and if he is in the house we shall see him or his light.”
“Meanwhile he can escape by the road.”
“Escape? Do you think he is planning to escape?”
The detective spoke with becoming surprise and Mr. Grey answered without
apparent suspicion.
“It is possible if he suspects my presence in the neighborhood.”
“Do you want to stop him?”
“I want to see him.”
“Oh, I remember. Well, sir, we will drive on,—that is, after a moment.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Oh, nothing. You said you wanted to see the man before he escaped.”
“Yes, but—”
“And that he might escape by the road.”
“Yes—”
“Well, I was just making that a little bit impracticable. A small pebble in the
keyhole and—why, see now, his horse is walking off! Gee! I must have
fastened him badly. I shouldn’t wonder if he trotted all the way to town. But
it can’t be helped. I can not be supposed to race after him. Are you ready now,
sir? I’ll give another shout, then I’ll get in.” And once more the lonely
region about echoed with the cry: “Wellgood! I say, Wellgood!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account