The Lion's Mouse
Page 34
XXXIV
TRAPPED
Trembling the girl locked herself into Chuff's room and went straight tothe telephone. If O'Reilly were at home he would make a dash to therescue. Her hand was on the receiver when she remembered that she wasmarooned. She was ignorant of the 'phone number and had never daredinquire the number of the house or street. Now, when it was too late,she wished with all her heart that she had slipped out late at night,while Kit and Churn slept, and thus found her bearings. She had notgone, because the pair always talked till after midnight, and the laterthe hour the more important their confidences. But surely she could notfall over this small stumbling block! The girl ran to a writing tableand opened the blotting-book. It was old, thickly patterned with stains,but it contained not a single sheet of paper. She pulled out a drawer.There was writing paper in it, but unstamped. While she fumbled, hopingfor an old envelope addressed to Chuff, the girl could hear the patterof feet overhead. Kit was in her own room walking about. Suddenly theboards ceased to creak. Kit had stopped. Was it at the bedside? Was shepulling the cover off the patched pillow?
Clo had turned to a shelf crowded with books and magazines when a newidea came to her. She snatched up the blotter and held it open, in frontof a mirror, over the mantelpiece. "Dear Peterson," she read, "Churnwill take you this, and----"
The line beneath mingled with others, and could not be disentangled, butthe address of the house had been written above, and could be clearlyread.
With a sigh of thanksgiving Clo ran to the telephone, called up Central,and asked for the Dietz Hotel. Her voice could no doubt be heard in thehall outside, and might even reach Kit's ears upstairs. But the doormust be broken before she could be torn from the 'phone, and at thishour, when all the men boarders were out there was no strong arm forsuch work. Meantime, O'Reilly might come. The girl longed for him with anew and desperate longing.
The Dietz answered quickly. Mr. Justin O'Reilly was still staying in thehotel, but he had gone out. Tears started to Clo's eyes. She was trappednow, and must summon Beverley to get the pearls. She had not the Sands''phone number, and must ask Central to call the Park Avenue apartment.When she had done this, silence fell. But it was only for a moment. Clostood, with her ear at the receiver still, when a loud bang on the doormade her jump as though she had been shot. The door knob turned.
"You little devil!" shrilled Kit's voice. "You--thief! I know you'rethere. Wait till I catch you!"
"Hello!" spoke a foreign-sounding voice through the 'phone--the voice ofa woman. "Hello! Yes, this is Mrs. Sands' flat. Mr. and Mrs. Sands arenot at home."
"When will they be back?" asked Clo.
"I don't know that," answered the cold voice of Anna Schultz. "It may bea long time."
The girl had an instant of despair, but she was not yet beaten. As Kitpounded furiously on the door, Clo called up the jeweller where EllenBlackburne was employed. Ellen had been in but gone out again; but, oh,she had just returned. She would step to the 'phone.
A moment later Ellen's calm "Hello" seemed to travel to her from afar-distant, peaceful world.
"This is Clo," replied the girl, conscious that voices outside the doorceased their clamour in order that ears might hear her message. "Yes, Isaid Clo! For God's sake get into a taxi and rush to the number andstreet I'm going to give you. Listen! Don't stop to ask questions. Whenyou get here, you don't need to come in. I'll drop something out of thewindow. You can guess what. I'll expect you quick. Good-bye!"
"I heard you!" shrieked Kit. "_I_ can guess, too! You've stolen mypearls, and you think you'll pass 'em on to some other thief. But youwon't, you devil! We'll have this door down in five minutes."
Clo went to the window, rolled up the blind, and raised the sash.
"Why won't you let me call the police?" she heard Mrs. Mac asking. "Itell you it's the only thing. I----"
"She won't let you do it because she stole the pearls herself," criedClo, darting across the room to put her lips to the keyhole. "And that'snot all she's afraid of."
"I'll kill you when I get my hands round your throat," Kit screamed herdown.
"I won't be the first you've killed. Take care!" Clo retorted, and wasthen stung with regret for her boldness. There would be no mercy for hernow from Kit or Churn when the door gave way. They would know that she'dbeen the woman at the telephone masquerading as Kit.
But, if only Miss Blackburne came first, before they broke in, shedidn't much care. With the pearls safe, she could fight for herself.
"Hurrah, by all that's good, here's my Boy!" crowed Kit outside thedoor. "Churn! you've come! Mr. Isaacs, too! I was never so glad in mylife to see any one as you both! There's a thief in Mr. Cheffinsky'sroom--the girl that's been living next door to us. She's stole my poorlittle string o' beads."
Men's voices spoke. Churn and Isaacs were indeed there! The girl put herear to the keyhole once more, and listened.
"What did I tell you about dat key?" Churn caught her up. "You're tenkinds of a fool, girl. But de tief's dere all right, you say?"
"Yes, she's there all right. She must have took Chuff's key off ourmantelpiece. You left it there! The little brute's been 'phonin' somepal to come in a taxi so she can drop my pearls out the window."
"Let me go down and talk things over with the pal when he comes," saidanother voice that was very smooth, and had a lisp. Clo deduced that itwas the voice of Isaacs.
"Yes, do go down!" The girl jeered him through the keyhole. "I'll callfrom the window what you are, a fence; that's your nickname. You're areceiver of stolen goods."
For a few breathless moments there was no sound. Clo wondered if Ellenhad started, and how soon the taxi might arrive. She went again to thewindow and looked out. There was no taxi in sight, no vehicle of anysort, but children playing, women chatting together. Clo wished that shemight shriek at the top of her voice "Help!" "Thieves!" "Murder!" Apoliceman would surely come, and she and the pearls would be saved. ButBeverley would be lost. The story of the pearls would come out somehow.As she gazed like Sister Anne from the tower, two things happened. Inthe house, a blow from a hammer made the door quiver; in the street ataxi came swinging into sight.
"They'll have the door down!" Clo gasped. "But if only that's Ellenshe'll be just in time."
The bag containing the pearls in their red wrapping was in the girl'shand. She stood, prepared to throw it if Ellen appeared. The taxi wasslowing down. Yes, it was stopping in front of the house. It must beEllen--but no! A man stepped out, and glanced quickly in all directions.He did not look up at the window, where Clo had shrunk back as far asshe could, not to lose sight of what went on below. He was furtivelyintent upon a gray limousine car, with several men in it, which hadfollowed the taxi along the street. The motor passed on, however, andits occupants (there were four or five, Clo fancied) were busilytalking. They did not look out, or interest themselves in the stoppingof the taxi. The man who had come in the latter had the air of hidingbehind it, as he paid the chauffeur and carefully counted his change;but the instant the limousine had slid ahead, regardless of him, he ranup the steps. Clo, at the window, could see him no more.
"What if it's Chuff?" she thought, "and he finds them breaking down hisdoor?"
Somehow she had the impression that Cheffinsky was even more wicked thanChurn, a man without scruples, a man who would stop at nothing for hisown advantage.
"Crack!" went one of the panels, and Clo, flying to the door, snatchedthe key from the keyhole. She knew the panel could not last manyminutes, and a picture rose before her mind of a hand pushing through ahole, to turn the key in the lock. Anyhow, that should not happen!
Back she fled to the window again, and stared anxiously out.
Another taxi appeared. The gray limousine had turned, and was comingback, also. But Clo cared only for the taxi. It was slowing down. Awoman thrust her head out and looked up--a neat little head in a blacktoque. "Miss Blackburne!" The girl cried shrilly. The taxi stopped. Butthe door stuck. Oh, why didn't the silly chauffeur j
ump off his seat andhelp?
Crash! The panel broke with a loud shriek of rending wood. The hammercame through, and was jerked quickly out again. A man's hand seized ajagged piece of the panel and tore it away. An eye peered through theaperture, but Clo was at the window.
"Quick--quick!" she implored, and brandished the bag far over the sill.
The eye disappeared from the panel, and the muzzle of a revolver tookits place.
Miss Blackburne had jumped down on to the pavement.
"If you throw out that bag, I fire," a voice warned Clo--a new voice,not Churn's.
The girl glanced round involuntarily, and saw the small black objectimbedded in the smashed door panel. Her nerves jerked, but she turnedback to the window, with a sensation of ice in her spine.
"String these and get them to _her_, if you have to take them toNewport!" she cried.
There was a queer muffled explosion, not unlike the breaking of wood,yet somehow different. Clo felt a blow on the shoulder, and then astrange, heart-rending pain. She staggered, fell forward on to herknees, hanging over the window sill. But she threw the bag. A red lightflamed in her eyes, not like the light of the summer day. Through theredness she thought she saw a little woman in black catch the bag andstand still, looking up. Clo tried to wave her hand, motioning "Goon--hurry!" and her lips formed the words. She was not sure whether thewoman went, or whether she had been stopped at the taxi door by some mengetting out of that gray limousine; the cloud of red had grown so thick.But there were noises behind her. The men in the hall had burst the dooropen. She could not look round again. Her head rested upon her arm,lying on the window sill. Then someone was dragging her away. It was allover for her in this world! But Beverley's pearls were saved.