Part 46 (1/2)

Pendleton jumped down, and without another word to Dr. Mercer, they set off toward the slate-roofed house by the roadside. However, after they had gone about fifty yards, Pendleton turned and looked back. He saw the small horse jogging away, while behind it, helplessly fat and hopelessly befogged, sat Dr. Mercer, swaying dispiritedly from side to side.

As Ashton-Kirk and Pendleton advanced upon the house, they bore in mind the possibility of Locke being on the watch; so they kept out of sight as much as possible.

”It's rather odd, I think, that he hangs on here, knowing that his part in the murder of Hume must now be known,” said Pendleton. ”I rather expected an attempt at escape.”

”That may come later,” said the investigator, grimly. ”The finish of a thing of this sort is always a matter for speculation. I have seen desperate criminals who surrendered like lambs; and I've seen the other sort give a platoon of police a good day's work in their taking.”

”Do you think it possible that Locke is one of this latter type?”

”There is no knowing. But I am inclined to believe that he is.”

Pendleton shook his head. It seemed impossible that this dapper little man with his peering, short-sighted eyes could be capable of any determined effort to escape the police when once driven into a corner. However, Pendleton had ample reason to respect Ashton-Kirk's judgment; and so when the latter deemed it necessary to approach with caution, he acted accordingly.

They paused in front of the house.

It was now past ten o'clock and the sun was s.h.i.+ning brightly; a little patch of garden, filled with early flowering plants lay between the house and the wood; all about the work-shop were the tall trees which they had noticed upon their previous visit.

”We had better not use the gate,” suggested the investigator. ”There might be an attachment of some sort that will give him warning.”

So under cover of the trees they scaled the fence; then they carefully made their way toward the shop. The windows and door of this were closed, nothing was stirring. Near the door was scattered some rubbish and loose paper. The place had an utterly deserted look.

”Do you think he is there?” asked Pendleton.

”I will know in a few moments,” replied the other. ”Wait here.”

Pendleton expected Ashton-Kirk to continue his cautious approach. But to his surprise the investigator with cool a.s.surance stepped out from behind a tree and advanced toward the outbuilding; when he reached the door he opened it and calmly stepped inside.

The building was in one great room. It had some windows at the side, but the greater part of its illumination came from a huge skylight. As he closed the door behind him, Ashton-Kirk had a vague impression of something huge, made of steel rods and with far-stretching wing-like projections at the sides. But he had no time to give the mechanism even a glance; of greater interest was the small figure which sat at a wide work-table upon which a litter of drawings was scattered.

It was Locke; and as the slight jar of the closing door reached him he lifted his eyes and saw the intruder. If Ashton-Kirk expected any display of fear or other emotion, he was disappointed; upon each of his previous meetings with Locke the latter had shown great trepidation; but now he simply nodded quietly and seemed not at all surprised.

But as Ashton-Kirk made a step toward him, he rose and raised his hand in a gesture that was peremptory and unmistakable. The investigator paused; then Locke pointed to a chair directly before his bench, but some half dozen yards away; and when Ashton-Kirk smilingly seated himself, Locke did likewise.

Then in heavy characters he scrawled upon the back of one of the blue-prints.

”I was expecting a visitor, and fancied that it might be you.”

This he held up so that the investigator might read it. Ashton-Kirk nodded. Again the back of a plan came into service and this time the investigator read.

”What has occurred is most unfortunate. I had no hand in it, though, of course, I do not expect anyone to believe me.”

Here Ashton-Kirk drew a note book from his pocket and was about to write, but the other stopped him with a gesture. Then the man once more wrote; carefully, heavily, in order that the other might have no difficulty in reading it from the distance.

”Pardon me! But it is not necessary for you to go to any trouble.

Moreover--I beg of you not to think me rude--your opinions in the matter have no interest for me.”

Ashton-Kirk acknowledged this with a grave nod. The pencil was instantly at work again.

”As I have said, I expected a visitor; but I will now add that I did not expect to be here to receive him.”

Ashton-Kirk looked swiftly into Locke's face as he read this; the expression was unmistakable, and the investigator leaped to his feet.