Part 31 (1/2)

”Thank you, Mrs. O'Connor,” said the boy in exultation. ”I'll come down directly.”

He soon had it secured, and then boldly got out of the window and swung off. In a minute he was by the side of his friend.

”How do ye feel now?” asked the good woman, in a tone of sympathy.

”Better,” said Julius.

”What made them lock ye up?”

”They didn't think I'd want to go out till mornin'. Good-bye, Mrs.

O'Connor; I'm goin' for the doctor. You can get your line in the mornin'.”

He left the house with a quick, alert step, showing no further evidence of pain. Mrs. O'Connor noticed it, and wondered that he should have got over his sickness so soon. Julius had been tempted to take her into his confidence and explain the real state of the case, but in the uncertain issue of the burglary he decided that it would not be best.

”Good-bye, old house!” he said, looking back to it in the indistinct light; ”I shall never come back and live here again. I'll go down to the wharves and find a place to sleep the rest of the night.”

He turned his steps in the direction of the East River. He found an out-of-the-way corner on one of the piers, where he disposed himself for sleep. It was nothing new to him. Scores of times he had spent the night in similar places, and never found fault with the accommodations. They might be poor, but the best of it was there was nothing to pay, and he must be indeed unreasonable who could complain under such circ.u.mstances. He fell asleep, but the shadow of recent events was upon him. He dreamed that Marlowe had him by the throat, and woke up in terror to find a dock-hand shaking him by the shoulder.

”Avast there!” said the man, who had caught some phrases from the sailors; ”wake up and pay for your lodgin's.”

”All my money's in the bank,” said Julius. ”I can't get at it till the bank opens.”

”Not then, either,” said the dock-hand, good-humoredly. ”Well, I'll let you off this time. Your wife's expectin' you home.”

”Are you sure of that?” said Julius. ”I told her I was goin' to a party, and she needn't expect me home till mornin'.”

”Well, the party's broke up, and you'd better be going,” returned the other, good-naturedly.

Meanwhile let us go back to Marlowe, whom we left hurrying home a little past midnight, intent upon wreaking his vengeance on Julius for his treachery. Had he found the boy it would have gone hard with him.

The ruffianly instinct of the burglar was predominant, and he might have killed him in the intensity of his blind rage. But the foresight and prudent caution of Julius defeated his wrathful purpose, and when he reached the shabby room which he called home his intended victim had escaped.

Marlowe did not at once discover the boy's flight. He unlocked the door, but it was dark within, for the window looked out upon an inclosed court, and permitted only a scanty light to enter. Before striking a light he locked the door again and put the key in his pocket. This was to prevent the boy's escape on the one hand, and any outside interference on the other. Then he drew a match from his pocket and lighted a fragment of candle upon the table. This done he turned his eyes toward the bed with stern exultation. But this was quickly turned into angry surprise.

”The boy's gone!” he exclaimed, with an oath. ”How could he have got out, with the door locked?”

The open window and the rope hanging from it revealed the method of escape.

Marlowe strode to the window with a feeling of keen disappointment.

Was he to be robbed of his revenge, after all? He had depended upon this with certainty, and meant to have it, though he should be arrested the next minute, and he knew that, though he had escaped from the house of his meditated crime, he was still in great peril.

Doubtless Julius had given full information to the police of his name and residence, and even now they might be in pursuit of him. He ground his teeth when he thought of this, and clinched his fist in the impotent desire for vengeance.

”If I had him here,” he muttered, ”I'd crush him as I would a spider,”

and he stamped angrily upon the floor.

But where could he have got the rope? that was the next question. He knew that there was none in the room, and how one could have been smuggled in with the door locked was something that puzzled him.

Julius himself could not very well have brought one in, as on account of its bulk it would have attracted the attention either of Jack Morgan or himself. Perhaps the woman downstairs might know something about it, he reflected, and this led him to go down and knock at Mrs.

O'Connor's door.