"The old Jezebel," said Jimmie. "She must have made it over to Ling, or Gwennie Lyne, and they had the address altered."
"Well, you never came. I saw to my brother as well as I could, draining on my memory of some red cross classes I once attended. I think I was near going mad at night with my impotence, and the loneliness, and the thought of his peril. At about nine o'clock Ling came. He entered the room without knock or ceremony and smoking a cigar. He laughed when he saw how terrified I was. ' All right,' he said. ' I'm not going to hurt a hair of your head. You ought to be grateful to me, young lady, for all the trouble I've been taking. Still it's a family affair and I couldn't do less, could I? ' He grinned at me hatefully and I don't know what I answered. ' You're a little bit off colour to-night,' he went on. 'I don't wonder. You haven't been used to this sort of thing. It would be wise to be civil, though.'
"He left me in no doubt as to the meaning of his hint and I constrained myself to a formal politeness. 'I'll not worry you any further to-night,' he said, 'but we've got to look our positions in the face. Now by to-morrow you'll probably be glad of a change. I'll come for you at seven o'clock and we'll go and have a dinner somewhere and talk things out sensibly. Mrs. Buttle here will look after your brother for an hour or two.'
"I was in his power, and of course there was no question of refusing. I had to make every sacrifice but the last one. To-night he called and we went to the place where you met us. I don't know how long we had been there, but we had practically finished dinner. He would talk of nothing but indifferent subjects, but there was something on his mind I felt sure. ' Pleasure first,' he said when I tried to pin him down. ' We'll leave business till we have eaten.'
"Then when you came in I was bewildered. You rushed me off my feet, and not till we were in the cab did I realise what the arrest of Ling would mean. He wouldn't hesitate for a moment to betray my brother if he learned he is himself suspected. If Mr. Menzies has arrested Ling he will probably know all by this time." She glanced apprehensively towards the door, as though she feared the immediate entrance of the police. "Now I have told you everything, Mr. Hallett. Can I ask you now what what--"
He understood her hesitation to frame the question as he understood now her eagerness to extract information from him in the train. But there was still something inexplicable on the face of her story. No reason, no motive other than that of a sort of blackmail had been given for Ling's actions. The personality of Ling as he understood it was entirely alien to any unselfish action. So far as her story had gone the man had committed no crime no legal crime that would bring him within the law. Why then the attempt on his life by William Smith, why the attempt to make him a prisoner by Gwennie Lyne, why the apparent importance which Menzies attached to the arrest of Ling?
He explained what had happened so far as he knew it, and little puzzled wrinkles appeared in her white forehead. "Now Ling isn't an altruist," he ended, "any more than Menzies is a fool. The gang has not been butting into this game merely to save your brother. And Menzies isn't red hot after them for no reason at all. If the case were as you think it would be simple enough. The hue and cry would be all after him." He made a motion of his hand towards the other room.
"Ah!" She looked at him thoughtfully and then walked slowly up and down the narrow confines of the apartment. "It's no good," she exclaimed at last.
"It may be as you say, but it's all too complex for me. Even if someone else is bound up with this crime, my brother's danger remains the same. That is all that concerns me."
Hallett found something to admire in the singleness of purpose that actuated the girl, even though it was to shield a man who was certainly a scoundrel and, in all probability, a murderer. "There is yourself to be considered," he remonstrated. "You are in deep waters."
"I shall find a way out." Her tone belied the confidence of her words.
He scratched his chin, "The first thing to do is to get your brother away from here somewhere where these crooks cannot get at him."
She shook her head. "That is out of the question. It might kill him to be moved. Besides, there is Mrs. Buttle. She would tell Ling and he would find me somehow."
"Then there is only one other thing. This is no place for you. You had better get decent lodgings somewhere and I will stay here. You can rely I will do everything possible for your brother."
Again she shook her head. "That is quite out of the question, though I am grateful for the offer. The only chance of safety is for me to remain here."
He lost patience. "Hang it all," he cried. "You can't. This house this neighbourhood why how can a child like you stay here alone? If you won't allow me to take your place I must get rooms in the neighbourhood."
"I thank you very much, Mr. Hallett," she said, "but you will see it is impossible. Anything you did would only attract attention to the house. You can see that. I promise you, if you like, that should ever I need you I will send for you. It will be a comfort to know that I have at least one honest friend on whom I can rely."
He was still uncertain. "I don't like it," he grumbled. "Anything might happen suddenly. It would take an hour to fetch me even if you had a reliable messenger." Then, as she showed no signs of relenting, "Very well, it shall be as you say. Here "he took his automatic from his pocket and passed it to her "you might feel safer if you have this. Do you understand how it works?"
He explained the mechanism to her. She held the weapon rigidly at arm's length. "Like this?" she asked.
"Great Jehosophat, no! That is how they do it on the stage. Take your finger off the trigger. Never put it there till you mean it to go off. And use the second finger, not the first. Point your first finger along the barrel. If you haven't time to take aim, all you nave got to do is to point your finger and you will hit whatever you are pointing at. Hold your arm more loosely. That's the idea. Now put it away. I feel better to think you've got it."
She held out her hand to him. "Thank you. And now good-night, Mr. Hallett. I will write you sometime."
He took her hand and held it. "Do you know that I was just going without asking you the name of this place? I might have something to tell you, you know."
She released herself with some confusion. "I will write it down." She scribbled for a second and then passed him the address.
"A very interesting picture," sneered a voice. "Mr. Hallett, I presume or Mr. Green, from Mobile?"
The girl gasped. Red-eyed and flushed, with a rent in his jacket, Ling was regarding them from the doorway.
Chapter XX
Hallett's fists clenched. He was poised for a rush when restraining fingers on his sleeve recalled to him that he had not only himself to consider. There might be a satisfaction in thrashing Ling, but it would be too dearly paid for. Moreover, for all they knew, he might not be alone. He was leaning against the doorpost with one hand in his jacket pocket. There was a cigar between his teeth and his lower jaw jutted out. His green eyes, alert and menacing, took in the little by-play that restrained Jimmie. He had evidently expected and been prepared for violence.
Jimmie dropped his hands with a boyish laugh. "My name's Hallett," he said. "We have met before. Mr. Ling, isn't it? This is rather unexpected. I thought some friends of yours had arranged an invitation for you?"
Ling grinned. "They sure did, sonny boy. They held four aces but I scooped the pot with a straight flush. I wondered what your little game was. Now I know." He continued to inflect a meaning into his words that made the blood surge in Jimmie's veins. "I thought you'd be the kind of fool that'd come right on here. You see, Peggy was hardly likely to desert her darling brother and you wouldn't leave her, eh? How's that for Sherlock Holmes? It won't do, though, it won't do. I'll have to be seeing a lawyer about this. Lucky I'm an indulgent husband,