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The Rose in the Ring Part 50

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The others looked down that filthy corridor and shuddered.

"What a place!" muttered David Jenison.

"Wot 'as Brad been up to to-night?" demanded Joey.

Without changing his position, d.i.c.k Cronk, in as few words as possible, told them of Braddock's vigil.

"Don't hang around here a minute longer than you have to," he said in conclusion. "There are a hundred eyes on you right now. You don't see 'em, but they're looking, just the same. I thought you'd be blame'



fools enough to come, so I waited up. Something told me you would go to Joey's when you left her, kid, and you'd make him come along to hunt me out. Brad's safe, and he's not going to do anything just yet. So go home and go to bed. I'll see you to-morrow and we'll arrange for a time when she can talk with him. She'll see him, won't she?"

"Of course. She is eager to see him. I am to bring him to her as soon as--"

"We've got to handle him carefully or--" began d.i.c.k.

Joey interrupted him. "The devil's to pay in another direction, d.i.c.k,"

he said. "Bob Grand 'as 'eard that Brad's out and that he's been 'anging around his 'otel, nasty-like. Who should come to my 'ouse in a cab at nine o'clock to-night but Bob Grand 'isself. He finds me alone, Ruby being off with 'er young man. When I sees who is coming up my steps, I almost keels over. The first words he says took my breath away. I was getting ready to kick 'im into the gutter when he puts a check on my leg, curious-like, by remarking that he's looking for Tom Braddock. He came to arsk me where he could be found. I told 'im I didn't know, and, if I did, I'd be hanged if I'd tell 'im. We 'ad some pretty sharp words, you may believe. But he took all the impudence out of me by announcing most plainly that he understood Brad wanted to kill 'im and that I'd best 'ave a care how I acted, because my 'ouse was being watched by secret service men. There was a lot more, but I 'aven't time to tell you. The upshot of it is, he's going to 'ave Brad nabbed and put where he can't do any 'arm. And, see 'ere, d.i.c.k, I don't want to be mixed up in this business. You've got to get Brad out of town to-night. He's done for now and--"

d.i.c.k Cronk interrupted his old friend with a snarl of impatience. "Get him away yourself! I'm doing the best I know how. He won't leave of his own free will. He's here to do that man and he won't be put off. And what's more, Bob Grand ought to get it good and hard. Somebody ought to spike him, and who's got a better right than Tom Braddock? I'm ashamed of you, Joey! If you'd been half a man you'd 'a' beat his head off to-night when he put his foot on your doorstep, after what he put up to Ruby. I--I wish I'd been there!"

The bowl of the clay pipe dropped to the bricks. He literally had ground the stem in two with his teeth.

"Go home now--both of you," he said, a moment later, following his own awkward laugh. "You can't afford to be seen here. I'll look out for Brad. The Colonel won't come here a-lookin' for him, you can bet your life on that. You'll hear from me to-morrow. Maybe you think I ain't sick of this business? If it wasn't for you, Davy, I'd cut it in a minute and dig for the wooly West, where Mr. Barnum and Mr. Forepaugh are dying for my society. Move along now! Don't block the sidewalk!

Can't you see the ladies want to pa.s.s?"

Two maudlin women of the underworld lurched by, with coa.r.s.e, ribald comments on the "swells." David felt himself grow hot with shame and disgust. After their laughter had died away he turned to the grinning d.i.c.k.

"But we must do something to-night--" he began imploringly.

d.i.c.k lifted his hand. "Correct," he said. "We must do some sleeping."

He strode to the mouth of the forbidding pa.s.sage. A light from a saloon window shone out upon a long flight of rickety steps at the farther end, leading up to the darkness above. "See that stairway? Well, I wouldn't advise you to follow me up there. It ain't a Romeo and Juliet balcony, gents. Good night!"

He turned into the pa.s.sage with a wave of the hand. They saw him pa.s.s up through the shaft of light from the window and disappear in the shadows. Then they hurried away from the foul place, almost running to the cab at the corner.

David did not sleep that night. He tossed on his bed, beset by the direst anxiety and dread, his eyes wide open and staring. He dozed off at six, but was wide awake before seven, when he arose and partook of a hurried, half-eaten breakfast. It was not likely that he would hear from d.i.c.k Cronk before the middle of the forenoon. Until then he was to be hara.s.sed by doubts and fears that would not be easy to suppress in his present unquiet frame of mind. While he was obliged to stand idle and impotent, the very foundation of all the future happiness of the girl he loved might be irreparably shattered. Silent, deadly, purposeful forces were working toward that end. Her mother would, no doubt, prepare her in a way for the crash, but there always would be the memory of the cruel blow that might have been prevented.

He crossed into Madison Square, taking a seat where he could watch the entrance to his hotel, though the hour was so early that it seemed sheer folly to expect d.i.c.k Cronk. A dozen times in the first half-hour he looked at his watch. Would the hands never reach nine o'clock? He knew that d.i.c.k would make his approach slyly. Perhaps if he returned to his room he would find him there. It would not be an unusual circ.u.mstance, he recalled.

Had Colonel Grand's detectives swooped down upon Tom Braddock? Was Christine's father already in jail? Was Grand in a position to hold a new club over the heads of the two women? Were the newspapers preparing to revel in the great story--

He was in the midst of these direful questions when some one tapped him lightly on the shoulder from behind. He turned and glanced upward, his nerves a-tingle.

"d.i.c.k!" he exclaimed, leaping to his feet.

"Sit down!" commanded the pickpocket warily.

David dropped to the bench, his eyes fastened on the white, drawn face of the pickpocket. A thick, white bandage was wrapped around his forehead, partially hidden by the slouch hat he wore. The man seemed faint and unsteady on his feet.

"I say, d.i.c.k," cried David, "what has happened? You are hurt. Who--"

With a rigid grin d.i.c.k put his hand to his head.

"Braddock," he said succinctly.

"You don't mean--Tell me what has happened? Wait! Do you require the attention of a surgeon?"

"Sit still, kid. I'm all right. You might pa.s.s me a quarter or something, just to make people think I'm boning you for a breakfast.

Thanks! Well, Brad's gone."

"Gone?"

"He cracked me good and hard, that's what he did. I told you he wouldn't be held down long. He's in no mood to be kind to them that are trying to be kind to him. He's past all that. He means business, Brad does. This morning about six he got up. I was watchin' him. He said he was going over to see his wife. He said he wanted to see her before Christine was awake, or out of bed. I told him they wouldn't let him in at that time of day. He said he'd get in or know the reason why. Then he opened up on me about all of us trying to manage his affairs for him. I tried to quiet him. But the devil of it was he was quiet enough.

He was _too_ quiet. It looked bad. When he started for the door I took hold of him. He--well, he shoved me off. When I jumped in front of the door he picked up a chair and let me have it over the head. I didn't know anything for a long time. When I came to he was gone. Jimmie Parsons, who was in the room with us all the time, also tried to stop him after he biffed me. Jimmie's got two wonderful black eyes as a result."

"The man must be insane!" cried David, aghast. d.i.c.k shook his head.

"Not a bit of it. He's the sanest man I know."

"Where has he gone? You said he started for Mrs. Braddock's? Great heavens, d.i.c.k, he may do her bodily harm! He may have shot her down in cold--"

"Easy, easy! He ain't likely to do anything like that until after he's got Bob Grand."

"Then he will shoot Bob Grand this morning, mark my words. He--"

"He won't shoot anybody. He hasn't any gun. He says he don't need one.

If he gets Grand, it won't be with a weapon of any kind. That's what he says, and he means it. If Bob Grand dies from a bullet, you can bet your life it won't come from Tom Braddock. But all this can wait. I stopped off at Joey's. He sent Ruby down to Mr. Portman's at once, and he's gone over to keep watch around the hotel where Grand stops. The thing for you to do is to make tracks for Portman's. I'm going to--"

But David did not wait to hear what d.i.c.k intended to do. He was rus.h.i.+ng off to hail a pa.s.sing hansom.

d.i.c.k followed him to the curb. "If you see Brad tell him there's no hard feelings, Davy. It was a dirty smash, but I deserve it for not ducking. And say, be careful how you tackle him. Remember that thing about wisdom being better than--what's the word? Nerve?"

The hansom turned and sped down Fifth Avenue with its nervous pa.s.senger. d.i.c.k shook his head wearily. Then he smiled. From his coat pocket he slyly extracted a s.h.i.+ning revolver. Three minutes before it had been in David Jenison's pocket. "He's better off without a thing like this," mused the clever philosopher.

Thomas Braddock rang the door-bell at the Portman home shortly after eight o'clock. He was perfectly calm and in full possession of himself.

A brisk manservant opened the door and faced the strange caller.

"I want to see Mrs. Braddock," said the man in the vestibule.

"Call again," said the servant curtly.

"Just a minute, please," said Braddock. He did not offer to resist the closing of the door in his face. There was something in his tone, however, that caused the footman to hesitate. He took a second, surprised look at the gray, set face of the caller.

"Mrs. Braddock is occupied," he announced.

"You mean she isn't up yet. I'll wait," remarked Braddock, still very quietly. The man stared hard at him, suddenly struck by the pallor of his face. His eyes swept the grim figure in the ill-fitting suit of jeans.

"What do you want? Can't you leave a message?"

"Want? I want to see her." The footman glanced back over his shoulder as if searching for some one on whom he could s.h.i.+ft an amazing responsibility. Recalling his dignity, he essayed to close the door in Braddock's face.

"I am her husband," announced the caller, his hands still in his pockets. The servant's hand was stayed.

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