Part 50 (1/2)
But George smiled, and pressed tighter until Nora cried out involuntarily.
”That means, drop your gun. For any little damage you do here Nora'll foot the bill.”
She shook her head, but her face recorded an insufferable pain. Garth knew that the one shot for which he would have time would spare her nothing.
”I never expected to see the pride of your gang slinking behind a woman's skirts,” he sneered. ”I suppose those are four of the rats who helped put your breakaway over. Six against one, and a woman for a s.h.i.+eld!”
It chilled him that the four strangers exposed their faces to his glance with a contemptuous indifference. He laughed, however, as Slim took his revolver.
”You giants must know that you haven't the chance of a pretzel at a Dutch wedding.”
Slim affected not to have heard, but his gestures lacked smoothness.
”Let's see how you enjoy your own jewelry, Garth.”
And he reached in Garth's pocket and drew out the pair of handcuffs he had been certain to find there. He snapped them on the detective's wrists. The four confederates lounged forward, produced stout cords, and bound them about Garth's ankles. His momentary resistance was smothered by Nora's sharp cry:
”Don't fight, Jim!”
His sense of utter helplessness increased, while the men, in obedience to Slim's gestures, stretched him on the floor. The surface was wet, as if the ooze of the river had penetrated this far. Slim stooped and glared at him, his eyes exposing a measureless resentment.
”Thanks for walking into our parlor, you fly cop. We heard how you and the skirt had fallen for each other. We guessed if we gave you a lead with some of her trinklets, you'd play the busy sleuth hound.”
Nora's voice held the quality of a sob.
”Jim! Why did you come?”
He shrugged his shoulders. He forced on himself a semblance of confidence.
”Planted or not, the trail was my best chance.”
Slim beckoned to George.
”Straight you've come to the place where I've dreamed for months of getting you.”
Garth managed a grin.
”Cut out the b.u.m acting, Slim. Let's hear what you've got on your mind.”
He shrank from a reply. More and more he was impressed by the indifference with which these confederates constantly revealed their faces. He knew, if the inspector did not arrive quickly, he must suffer an eccentric and barbarous punishment. He tried to forecast the penalty, but his imagination was insufficient and his appraisal of Slim's cruelty too conservative. It wasn't until George stepped forward and Nora screamed that he guessed why the others were unafraid of his identification, that he understood how his situation might involve more than life and death. And, perhaps, the shambling creature outside had put the inspector's party on the wrong track.
George placed a pint bottle in Slim's hand. A smoky liquid did not quite fill it. Slim turned to the others, a.s.suming an att.i.tude of mockery.
”This is the brave guy that side-tracked Simmons last summer and wore the gray mask just as if he had something, too, that would frighten women and children. He's the bull that steered us against the black cap yesterday. Let's see how he likes hearing the sentence read himself.
Only he isn't going to get anything as comfortable as the electric chair.”
A laugh sneered through the cellar.
”Better speed it up, Slim,” George advised.
Slim drew the cork from the bottle while his thin lips ceased to smile.