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"The fact doesn't interest me," he returned snappishly.
"Fortunately I didn't come for your help; I wanted to see Zena."
"She's out and won't be home until late."
"And your temper's gone out, too, eh, Professor?"
"What do you mean?"
"That you are simply l.u.s.ting to be on the warpath," I laughed. "It might do you good to come and see the hooligans with me to-night. Besides, if we could settle the chalice case promptly we might be investigating the hotel robberies before the end of the week."
This suggestion clinched the matter. He came, believing possibly that I congratulated myself upon having drawn him into the affair, which was not a fact. I was glad of his company, but I did not want his help.
Knowing something of such places, this hooligans' club astonished me. The raw material was rough enough, but Mr. Hayes had worked wonders with it.
His personality had made no particular impression on me that morning, but his achievement proved him a man of force and character. Quarles was evidently interested in him and his work. If what the vicar had told me about his curate had left even a faint speculation regarding his integrity in my mind, it was dissipated.
Visitors to the club were not an infrequent occurrence, Mr. Hayes told us. He was rather proud that the inst.i.tution had served as a type on which to form others.
"There mustn't be too much religion," he said. "The flotsam and jetsam of life have to learn to be men and women first. Some of them are learning to be men here."
While I listened to him I had been eagerly scanning the faces before me.
There was not one I recognized. I wandered about the room, feigning interest in the game of bagatelle which was going forward with somewhat noisy excitement, and stood by chess and draught players for a few moments to study their faces closely. I looked keenly at each new arrival, but my clue was yet to seek.
Suddenly a young fellow entered, rather smarter than most of them, and I recognized him at once. Possibly the hooligans' club had been his salvation, but he had been bred amongst thieves, thieves I knew and had handled at times.
"I began to think you weren't coming to-night, Squires."
"Just looked in to say I can't come, sir," was the answer. "Got a chance of a place, sir, and going to look after it."
"That's right. Good luck to you. You can refer to me, you know."
"Thank you, sir."
With a careless word to two or three of the youths as he pa.s.sed down the room, Squires sauntered out.
"That's our man," I whispered to Quarles, and without waiting to take leave of Mr. Hayes, I hastened to the door. Squires was going slowly down the street, no evidence of alarm about him, no desire apparently to lose himself in the crowd. He had not got very far when Quarles joined me, keen now there was a trail to follow.
"I know the gang he used to be friendly with," I said as we began to follow, "although I've got nothing definite against this youngster. It was this gang, I believe, that worked the series of frauds on jewelers three years ago, although we never brought it home to them. Just the men to deal with a jeweled chalice, eh, professor? I expect young Squires recognized me and guesses I am after it."
Our object was to track young Squires to his destination. Since he was connected with St. Ethelburga's through the hooligan club, it was quite likely he had had a direct hand in the robbery, but it was certain others were the prime movers, and I guessed he was on the way to warn them that I was on the trail.
At the corner of a street he stopped to speak to a man and a woman, and we were obliged to interest ourselves in a convenient shop door. He stood at the corner talking for at least ten minutes. Quarles thought he was having words with the woman, but it could not have been much of a quarrel for none of the pa.s.sersby took any particular notice of them. Presently the man and woman crossed the street arm in arm, and Squires sauntered round the corner. We were quickly at the corner, afraid of losing sight of him. He was still in sight, still walking slowly. Once he turned to light a cigarette, and after that he increased his pace a little.
"It's evident he lied when he said he was going to look for a job,"
I remarked.
"But it's not so evident that one of us ought not to have followed the man and woman," said Quarles. "They may have gone to do the warning."
"I think not," I answered. "If you have noted our direction you will find we have traveled a pretty circuitous route. He'll wait until he thinks he is safe from pursuit, and then take a bee line for his destination."
As if he would prove my words Squires mended his pace, swinging down one street and up another as if he had suddenly become definite. At corners he gained on us, I think he must have run the moment he was out of sight, and in one short street we were only just in time to see him disappear round a corner.
"I'm going to give this up soon, Wigan," said Quarles as we hurried in pursuit. "I don't care how many jewels the chalice had in it."
We were round the corner. Squires had disappeared, but we could hear running feet in the distance.
"That settles it," said Quarles, coming to halt a dozen yards from the corner. "Go on if you like, Wigan, but--"
I heard no more. Something struck me, enveloped me, and there was an end.
I am not very sure when a new beginning happened. Perhaps it is only an after consideration which makes me remember a whirring sound in my ears, and a certain swinging motion, and a murmur which was soothing. I am quite sure of the pain which subsequently came to me. My head was big with it, my limbs twisted with it. I was conscious of nothing else for a period to which I cannot place limits. Then there was fire in my throat.
I was sitting in the angle of a wall, on the floor; at a little distance from me was a light which presently resolved itself into a candle stuck in the neck of a bottle. There were moving shadows--I saw them, I think, before I was conscious of the man and woman who made them. The man had just poured brandy down my throat, the girl, with her arms akimbo, watched him.
"He'll do now," said the man.
"Can't see why we take such trouble to keep death away," was the woman's answer.
"Are you in love with the hangman?"
The girl laughed, caught up the bottle, making the shadows dance like a delirium, then I slipped back into darkness again.
All kinds of things came into my mind after that, disordered dreams, and then I heard my name.
"Wigan! Wigan!"
I was still sitting in an angle of a wall, trussed like a fowl, but I was awake.
"Is that you, Professor?"
"No more hooligan clubs, Wigan."
"What happened?"
"I remember turning a corner," Quarles answered, "and I woke up here. We were sandbagged, or something of the kind, and serves us right. If we wanted to follow any one we ought to have followed the man and woman. Can you drag yourself over to this corner? We can talk quietly then."
It was rather a painful and lengthy operation, but I fancy the effort did me good. My brain was clearer, I began to grip things again.
"Where are we?" I said.
"Locked in a cellar, but where I do not know. We're lucky to be no worse off, and probably I'm especially lucky in not having been sandbagged by the man who dealt with you. He would probably have closed my account, for he must have hit you a tremendous blow. I had come to myself before the man and woman brought you brandy. I just moved to show I wasn't dead and watched them."
"You'll know them again."
"They both wore masks. About this chalice, Wigan."
"No doubt we've hurried it into the melting pot," I returned.
"I've been half asleep since our friend left us, but I've done some thinking, too. Reminded of my empty room by this cellar, I expect. There are one or two curious points about this chalice."