按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
society … internationalism。 The word having found lodgment in her
thoughts took root。 Internationalism … Utopia while you wait！
Anarchism and Bolshevism offering nostrums for humanity's ills！ And
there were sane men who defended the cult on the basis that the
intention was honest。 Who can say that the rattlesnake does not
consider his intentions honourable？
The attribute lacking in the ape to make him human is continuity of
thought and action in all things save one。 He often starts out we11
but he never arrives。 His interest is never sustained。 He drops
one thing and turns to another。 The exception is his enmity； savage
and cunning； relentless and enduring。
Kitty was awake to one fact。 She could not venture to dig into this
affair alone。 On the other hand； she did not want one of the men
from the city room … a reporter who would see nothing but news。 If
Gregor was only a prisoner publicity might be the cause of his death；
and publicity would certainly react hardily against Johnny Two…Hawks。
To whom might she turn？
Cutty！ … with his great physical strength； his shrewd and alert
mentality； and his wide knowledge of peoples and tongues。 There was
the man for her … Kitty Conover's godfather。 She dumped the contents
of her handbag upon the stand in the hallway in her impatience to
find Cutty's card with his telephone number。 It was not in the
directory。 She might catch him before he went out for the evening。
A Japanese voice answered her call。
〃'Souse； but he iss out。〃
〃Where？〃
〃No tell me。〃
〃How long has he been gone？〃
〃'Scuse！〃
Kitty heard the click of the receiver as it went down upon the hook。
But she wasn't the daughter of Conover for nothing。 She called up
the University Club。 No。 The Harvard Club。 No。 The Players； the
Lambs； and in the latter club she found him。
〃Who is it？〃 Cutty spoke impatiently。
〃Kitty Conover。〃
〃Oh！ What's the matter？ Can't you have lunch with me？〃
〃Something very strange is happening in this old apartment house；
Cutty。 I'm afraid it is a matter of life and death。 Otherwise I
shouldn't have bothered you。 Can you come up right away？〃
〃As soon as a taxi can take me！〃
〃Thanks。〃
Kitty then went through the apartment and turned out all the lights。
Next she drew up a chair to the kitchen window and sat down to watch。
All was dark across the way。 But there was nothing singular in this
fact。 Johnny Two…Hawks would have sense enough to realize that it
would be safer to move about in the dark。 It was even probable
that he was lying down。
Tumpitum…tump！ Tumpitum…tump！ went the racing Elevated； and Kitty's
heart raced along with it。 Queer how the echo of Cutty's description
of the drums calling a jehad … a holy war … should adapt itself to
that Elevated。 Drums！ Perhaps the echo clung because she had been
interested beyond measure in his tale of those two emeralds； the
drums of jeopardy。 Mobs sacking palaces and museums and banks and
homes； all the scum of the world boiling to the top； the Red Night
that wasn't over。
She uttered a shaky little laugh。 She would tell Cutty。 The real
drums of jeopardy weren't emeralds but the roll of warning that
prescience taps upon the spine； the occult sense of impending danger。
That was why the Elevated went tumpitum…tump！ tumpitum…tump！ She
would tell Cutty。 The drums of fear。
He over there and she here； in darkness； both of them waiting for
something to happen； and the invisible drumsticks beating the tattoo
of fear。 If he were in her thoughts might not she be a little in
his？ She stood up。 She would do it。 Convention in a moment like
this was nonsense。 Hadn't he kept his side of the line scrupulously？
Nonchalance。 It occurred to her for the first time that there must
be good material in a man who could come through in a contest with
death； nonchalant。 She would fetch him and have him here to meet
Cutty； this rather forlorn Johnny Two…Hawks； with his unshaven face；
his black eye； and his nonchalance。 She would fetch him at once。
It would save a good deal of time。
There were but ten apartments in the building； two on a floor。 The
living room formed an L。 Kitty's buttressed Gregor's。 The elevator
shaft was inside； facing the court； and the stair head was on the
Gregor side of the elevator。 The two entrances faced each other
across the landing。
As Kitty opened her door to step outside she was nonplussed to see
two men issue cautiously from the Gregor door。 The moment they
espied her； however； there was a mad rush for the stair head。 She
could hear the thud of their feet all the way down to the ground
floor； and every footfall seemed to touch her heart。 One of them
carried a bundle。
She breathed quickly； and she knew that she was afraid。 Neither
man was Johnny Two…Hawks。 Something dreadful had happened； she was
sure of it。 Reenforcing her sinking courage with nerve energy she
ran across to the Gregor door and knocked。 No answer。 She knocked
again； then she tried the door。 Locked。 The flutter in her breast
died away； she became quite calm。 She was going to enter this
apartment by the way of the fire escape。 The window he had come out
of was still up。 She had made note of this from the kitchen。 In
returning he had stepped on to the springe of a snare。
She hurried back to her kitchen for the automatic。 She hadn't the
least idea how to manipulate it； but she was no longer afraid of it。
Bravely she stepped out on to the fire escape。 To reach her
objective she had to walk under the ladder。 Danger often puts odd
irrelevancies into the human brain。 As she moved forward she
wondered if there was anything in the superstition regarding ladders。
When she reached the window she leaned against the brick wall and
listened。 Silence； an ominous silence。 The window was open； the
curtain up。 Within； what？ For as long as five minutes she waited；
then she climbed in。
Now as this bedroom was a counterpart of her own she knew where the
light button would be。 She might stumble over a chair or two； but
in the end she would find the light。 The fingers of one hand
spread out before her and the other clutching the impossible
automatic； she succeeded in navigating the uncharted reefs of an
unfamiliar room。 She blinked for a moment after throwing on the
light； and stood with her back to the wall； the automatic wabbling
at nothing in particular。 The room was empty so far as she could
see。 There was evidence of a physical encounter； but she could not
tell whether it was due to the former or to the latter invasion。
Where was he？ From where she stood she could not see the floor on
the far side of the bed。 Timidly she walked past the foot of the
bed … and the transient paralysis of horror laid hold of her。 She
became bereft of the power to grasp and hold； and the automatic
slipped from her fingers and thudded on the carpet。
On the floor lay poor Johnny Two…Hawks； crumpled grotesquely； a
streak of blood zigzagging across his forehead； to all appearances；
dead！
CHAPTER VII
Twice before in her life Kitty had looked upon death by violence；
and it required only