Part 23 (1/2)

But her prayers seemed to avail her naught, and she finally sank, swooning, with her head against the cruel barrier. Back in the railroad station, Percy and his kind-faced a.s.sistant, Pop, were prospecting for another recruit.

CHAPTER XI

THE POISONED NEEDLE

That afternoon Burke improved his time, during a two-hour respite, to hunt for a birthday present for Mary.

Manlike, he was shy of shops, so he sought one of the big department stores on Sixth Avenue, where he instinctively felt that everything under the sun could be bought.

As Bobbie paused before one of the big display windows on the sidewalk he caught a glimpse of a familiar figure. It was that instinct which one only half realizes in a brief instant, yet which leaves a strong reaction of memory.

”Who was that?” he thought, and then remembered: Baxter.

Burke followed the figure which had pa.s.sed him so quickly, and found the same dapper young man deeply engrossed in the window display of women's walking suits.

”What can he find so interesting in that window?” mused Burke. ”I'll just watch his tactics. I don't believe that fellow is ever any place for any good!”

He stood far out on the sidewalk, close to the curb. The pa.s.sing throng swept in two eddying, opposite currents between him and Baxter, whose attention seemed strictly upon the window.

”Well, there's his refined companion,” was Burke's next impression, as he espied the effeminate figure of Craig, strolling along the sidewalk close to the same window.

”Can they be pickpockets? I would guess that was too risky for them to take a chance on.”

Neither youth spoke to the other, although they walked very close to each other. As Burke scrutinized their actions he saw a young girl, tastefully dressed in a black velvet suit, with a black hat, turn about excitedly. She looked about her, as though in alarm, and her face was distorted with pain. Baxter gave her a s.h.i.+fty look and followed her.

Craig had been close at her side.

Burke drew nearer to the girl. She seemed to falter, as she walked, and it was apparently with great effort that she neared the door of the big department store. Baxter was watching her stealthily now.

”Oh!” she exclaimed desperately and keeled backward. Baxter's calculations were close, for he caught her in his arms.

”Quick! Quick!” he cried to the big uniformed carriage attendant at the door. ”Get me a taxicab. My sister has fainted.”

The man whistled for a machine, as Burke watched them. The officer was calculating his own chances on what baseball players call a ”double play.” Craig was close behind Baxter, in the curious crowd. Burke guessed that it would take at least a minute or two for Baxter to get the girl into a machine. So he rushed for Craig and surprised that young gentleman with a vicious grasp of the throat.

”Help! Police!” cried Craig, as some women screamed. His wish was doubly answered, for Burke's police whistle was in his mouth and he blew it shrilly. A traffic squad man rushed across from the middle of the street.

”Hurry, I want to get my sister away!” ordered Baxter excitedly to the door man. ”You big b.o.o.b, what's the matter with you?”

The crowd of people about him shut off the view of Burke's activities fifteen feet away. Baxter was nervous and was doing his best to make a quick exit with his victim.

”What's this?” gruffly exclaimed the big traffic policeman, as he caught Craig's arm.

”The needle!” grunted Burke. ”Here, I've got it from his pocket.”

He drew forth a small hypodermic needle syringe from Craig's coat pocket, and held it up.

”It's a frame-up!” squealed Craig.