The Adventures of Jimmie Dale [91]
your safe you will find they are gone--shall I hold the line while you investigate? . . . What? . . . Don't shout, please--and stand a little farther away from the mouthpiece." Jimmie Dale's tone was one of insolent composure now. "There is really no use in getting excited. . . . I beg pardon? . . . Certainly, this is the Gray Seal speaking. . . . What?" Jimmie Dale's voice grew plaintive, "I really can't make out a word when you yell like that. . . . Yes. . . . I had occasion to use them this afternoon, and I took the liberty of borrowing them temporarily--are you still there, Mr. Maddon? . . . Oh, quite so! Yes, I hear you NOW. . . . No, that is all, only I am returning them through your private secretary, a very estimable young man, though I fear somewhat excitable and shaky, who is on his way to you with them now. . . . WHAT'S THAT YOU SAY? You repeat that," snapped Jimmie Dale suddenly, icily, "and I'll take them from under your nose again before morning! . . . Ah! That is better! Good-night--Mr. Maddon." Jimmie Dale hung up the receiver and shoved Burton toward the door. "Now then, Burton, we'll get out of her--and the sooner you reach Fifth Avenue and Mr. Maddon's house the better. No; not that way!" They had reached the hall, and Burton had turned toward the side door that opened on the alleyway. "Whoever they were who settled their last account with Isaac may still be watching. They've nothing against any one else, but they know some one was in here at the time, and, if the police are clever enough ever to get on their track, they might find it very convenient to be able to say WHO was in the room when Isaac was murdered--there's nothing to show, since Isaac so obligingly opened the window for them, that the shot was fired THROUGH the window and not from the inside of the room. And even if they have already taken to their heels"--Jimmie Dale was leading Burton up the stairs again as he talked--"it might prove exceedingly inconvenient for us if some passer-by should happen to recollect that he saw two men of our general appearance leaving the premises. Now keep close--and follow me." They passed the door of Isaac's den, turned down a narrow corridor that led to the rear of the house--Jimmie Dale guiding unerringly, working from the mental map of the house that the Tocsin had drawn for him--descended another short flight of stairs that gave on the kitchen, crossed the kitchen, and Jimmie Dale opened a back door. He paused here for a moment to listen; then, cautioning Burton to be silent, moved on again across a small back yard and through a gate into a lane that ran at right angles to the alleyway by which both had entered the house--and, a minute later, they were crouched against a building, a half block away, where the lane intersected the cross street. Here Jimmie Dale peered out cautiously. There was no one in sight. He touched Burton's shoulder, and pointed down the street. "That's your way, Burton--mine's the other. Hurry while you've got the chance. Good-night." Burton's hand reached out, caught Jimmie Dale's, and wrung it. "God bless you!" he said huskily. "I--" And Jimmie Dale pushed him out on to the street. Burton's steps receded down the sidewalk. Jimmie Dale still crouched against the wall. The steps grew fainter in the distance and died finally away. Jimmie Dale straightened up, slipped the mask from his face to his pocket, stepped out on the street--and five minutes later was passing through the noisy bedlam of the Hungarian restaurant on his way to the front door and his car. "SONNEZ LE TOCSIN," Jimmie Dale was saying softly to himself. "I wonder what she'll do when she finds I've got the ring?"
CHAPTER VIII THE MAN HIGHER UP
The Tocsin! By neither act, sign, nor word had she evidenced the slightest interest in that ring--and yet she must know, she certainly must know that it was now in his possession. Jimmie Dale was disappointed. Somehow, he had counted more than he had cared to admit on developments from that ring. He pulled a little viciously at his cigarette,
CHAPTER VIII THE MAN HIGHER UP
The Tocsin! By neither act, sign, nor word had she evidenced the slightest interest in that ring--and yet she must know, she certainly must know that it was now in his possession. Jimmie Dale was disappointed. Somehow, he had counted more than he had cared to admit on developments from that ring. He pulled a little viciously at his cigarette,