Part 37 (1/2)

Drew frowned as he glanced at the cuffs. He scratched his dark hair and combed his fingers back toward his ears. He turned and glanced at Loris and Nichols in the opening between the two splendid rooms.

”I don't like to take a chance with this fellow,” he admitted. ”Do you want me to, Miss Stockbridge? It's your life he was after, and he may be shamming now. You never can trust an opium addict. They have no soul.”

”I've as much as a copper's!”

”Shut up, you!” boomed Delaney, threateningly. ”Shut up! There's a lady in this room!”

The prisoner clicked his cuffs together. He stared at the cheval gla.s.s and the telephone. ”A lady?” he repeated through the corner of his lips. ”A limb of the Stockbridge tree,” he said bitterly. ”I hold nothing against her. I told you that before. But we promised the old man we'll take care of her after we killed him, and she came near going--let me tell you that. I could have killed her with twenty words.”

”He's rambling,” said Delaney, reaching for the prisoner. ”The dope has gone to his head. I don't believe there's any----”

”Easy, Delaney,” warned Drew thoroughly on the alert. ”Don't make the mistake of underestimating this fellow. He acts like a man who has repented--who wants to right some of the wrong he has done. I don't think we are taking chances in letting this fellow loose. He is unarmed. I tended to that. If he wants to 'phone--let's let him.”

”Your case, Chief!”

Drew reached in his pocket and brought around a police regulation revolver. ”I'll have this right here!” he snapped as he slowly raised it. ”You, Delaney, unlock one cuff and pa.s.s it to me. I'll wrap the chain around my left wrist. If this fellow tries anything I'll tend to his case--forever. These .44's are made for stopping purposes, eh, Mr.

Nichols?”

”They certainly are, Mr. Drew. I think we can handle that little man without trouble. What does he want to telephone for?”

”What for, Bert?” asked Drew, swinging and confronting the prisoner.

”Do you want to say good-by to somebody?”

”Good-by is right,” whispered the trouble-man, extending his hands toward Delaney, who fished out a small key. ”Yes, it's good-by to somebody. Unlock them!”

”Hold on!” exclaimed Drew. ”I don't like that tone. You'll have to act better than that, Bert. What do you want to get loose for? What number do you want? I'll call up.”

”No, I got to do it. I want one hand free--that's all.”

Loris stepped to Drew's side. ”Can there be anything about the room,”

she asked, ”that he wants to use? Perhaps he'll pick something up and use it too quickly for you to stop him.”

”I don't think so,” said Drew grimly. ”This gun, Miss Stockbridge, happens to have a hair trigger. We'll chance it--with your permission.”

”I'm not afraid for myself--but don't you think the poor fellow should be prevented from harming himself. He acts just like a man who wanted to do something terrible. He seems to have given up hope.”

”A woman's intuition,” mused Drew. ”Perhaps a close one,” he said aloud. ”You get back into the other room, Miss Stockbridge. Let Mr.

Nichols stand in front of you for protection. I'm going to grant this fellow's request. Delaney, unlock the left cuff!”

The key rattled in the tiny key-hole as Drew poised his revolver and drew a sight between the prisoner's fluttering eyelids. ”Stand right there,” whispered the detective tersely. ”Right there,” he added, reaching with his left hand and taking the cuff and chain from the operative. ”Now, Bert, you're half free. What do you want with the telephone?”

The prisoner pinched his wrist and worked his hand like a hinge. A white mark, which slowly changed to red, showed where Delaney had clamped the handcuff down to its last notch. The trouble-man eyed this mark. His lips hardened. He strained on the chain as he lifted his fingers to his brow with a tired gesture.

”Hurry!” said Drew. ”Hurry, Bert, or we'll cuff you up again. Do you want to telephone?”

”Y--e--s!” The voice was tremulous and dry. ”Yes! I'll use it. I'll show you how that pirate--Stockbridge--was killed. The yellow squealer!”

Loris raised her chin proudly. She leaned against Nichols in the doorway. ”I won't stand for that!” declared the soldier. ”You are being insulted in your own house!”

”Wait, Harry! Something is going to happen! I know it is!”