CHAPTER XXV
“I HAVE come to the conclusion,” said Evan Pell, “that every man, no matter what his vocation, should be a man of action. That is to say, he should devote some attention and practice to those muscular and mental activities which will serve him should some unexpected emergency arise.”
“Yes,” said Carmel.... “Yes.”
“I find myself with little or no equipment for strenuous adventure. This, we must admit, proves itself to be a serious oversight.”
“Do you know how long we have been shut in this room?” Carmel demanded.
“I do. You were—er—propelled into this place at approximately ten-thirty last night. It is now five o’clock to-day. Eighteen hours and a half.”
“Nothing has happened—nothing!... We’ve been fed like animals in a zoo.... I dozed fitfully during the night. We’ve talked and talked, and waited—waited.... This waiting! Evan, I—it’s the waiting which is so terrible.”
“There are,” said Evan, with self-accusation in his voice, “men who would escape from this place. They would do it with seeming ease. Undoubtedly there is a certain technique, but I do not possess it. I—er—on an occasion I attended a showing ofmotion pictures. There was an individual who—without the least apparent difficulty, accomplished things to which escape from this room would be mere child’s play.”
“To-night,” said Carmel, “the sheriff will come to this hotel, and find us here.”
“What must you think of me?” Evan said, desperately. He turned in his chair and stared through the window toward the woods which surrounded the hotel upon three sides, his shoulders drooping with humiliation. Carmel was at his side in an instant, her hands upon his shoulders.
“Evan!... Evan! You must not accuse yourself. No man could do anything. You have done all—more than all—any man could do.... We—whatever comes, we shall face it together.... I—I shall always be proud of you.”
“I—I want you to be proud of me. I—the man will be here with our food in half an hour.... Would you mind standing at some distance?”
She withdrew, puzzled. Evan drew from his pocket the stocking with the doorknob in its toe and studied it severely. “This,” said he, “is our sole reliance. It has a most unpromising look. I have never seen an implement less calculated to arouse hope.”
He edged his chair closer to the bed, grasped the top of the sock, and scowled at a spot on the coverlid. He shook his head, reached for his handkerchief, and, folding it neatly, laid it upon the spot at which he had scowled.
“A—er—target,” he explained.
Then, drawing back his arm, he brought down the improvised slung-shot with a thud upon the bed.
“Did I hit it?” he asked.
“I—I don’t think so.”
“I knew it.... It is an art requiring practice.”
Again and again he belabored the bed with his weapon, asking after each blow if he had struck the mark. “I fancy,” he said, “I am becoming more accomplished. I—er—am pretending it is a human head. I am endeavoring to visualize it as the head of an individual obnoxious to me.”
“But why? What are you about?”
“I have heard it said that desperate situations demand desperate remedies. I am about to become desperate. Do I look desperate?” He turned to her hopefully.
“I—you look very determined.”
“It is, perhaps, the same thing. Iamvery determined. I am inexorable.... Please listen at the door. If he comes upon us before I have time to make essential preparations, my desperation will be of no avail.”
Carmel went to the door and listened while Evan continued to belabor the bed. “Decidedly,” he panted, “I am becoming proficient. I hit it ten times hand-running.”
“But——”
“Please, listen.... You see how impossible it is for me to escape. I am unable to walk, much less to make satisfactory speed.... You, however,are intact. Also, if one of us is found to be absent, this unspeakable plan must fail. I am working upon a plan—a desperate plan—to make possible the absence of one of us—namely, yourself.”
“Silly!... Do you think I would leave you here—for them to—to do what they wanted to?”
“If you escape they will dare do nothing to me. That is clear. Undoubtedly they will be chagrined, and at least one of their number will be—in a position to require medical attention. I trust this will be so. I should like to feel I have injured somebody. A latent savagery is coming to the surface in me.”
“But what are you going to do?”
“I think I had best assume the position necessary to my plan,” he said. “Would you mind helping me to the door?”
He hitched his chair along until it stood close to the wall at the side of the door opposite from its hinges. Evan flattened himself against the wall where it would be impossible for one entering the door to see him until well within the room.
“There,” he said. “You, also, have your part.”
“What—what must I do?”
“He will be carrying a tray of dishes. If—events should so shape themselves that he should drop this, a tremendous and alarming crash would result. It would spell disaster. You, therefore, will be at the door when the man opens it, and will reach for the tray. Be sure you have it grasped firmly—and on no account—it matters not how startled you may beat what follows—are you to drop it. Everything depends upon that.”
“And then——”
“A great deal depends upon yourself. The unexpectedness of our attempt will militate in our favor. Should matters eventuate as I expect, you will be able to leave this room. From that instant I cannot help you.... But, an attempt on our part not being expected, I rather imagine you will be able to make your way downstairs and out of doors.... It is only a chance, of course. It may fail, in which event we will be no worse off than we are at present.... You will then hasten to Gibeon and take such measures as you conceive to be adequate.”
“I shan’t leave you.... I shan’t, I shan’t, I shan’t.”
His lips compressed and an expression appeared upon his face which she had never seen there before. It was masterful, an expression of conscious force. It was the real man peering through its disguise. His hand clenched into a fist.
“By Heavens!” he said, “you’ll do as you’re told.”
“Evan!”
“Precisely,” he said. “Now make ready.”
They waited, wordless. It was five minutes perhaps before heavy feet ascended the stairs, and they heard the rattle of dishes as the man set down his tray to unlock the door. He thrust it open with his foot, picked up the tray and stepped through the opening. Carmel stood before him. She stretchedout her hands for the tray and grasped it.... As she did so, Evan Pell, standing poised over his chair, swung forward his homely weapon.... His practice had made for efficiency. The doorknob thudded sickeningly upon the man’s bald head; he stood swaying an instant, then his knees declined further to sustain his weight, and he folded up into a limp heap on the floor.
“Pull him inside and shut the door,” Evan snapped. “I—er—find in myself a certain adaptability.... Put on your wrap and hat. Hurry.... The front way. Keep out of sight. Can you drive a car?”
“Yes.”
“If one is standing in front—steal it.”
“Yes.”
“Now—go.”
“I—Oh, Evan.”
She was in his arms, and her lips to his. “I—If they kill you I shall die, too.”
He opened the door and stared into the dimly lighted hall. “It is clear. Go.”
“Good-by.”
“Go. You’re wasting time.” He pushed her through the door. “Our best hope is that they—to my surprise—have underestimated me.... Good-by.... I—er—seem to have underestimated myself.... I seem to have been—exceptionally inefficient in a field quite foreign to my previous activities. Hasten.”
He shut the door and Carmel stood alone, dependentupon herself, without other hope or reliance than in her own expedients. She moved softly down the hall, reached the top of the stairs which led downward to another hall and the front door. She listened. There was no alarming sound.... She descended halfway and stopped again. The lower hall, apparently, was in the middle of the house. To the left was the room which had been the bar in the days when liquor might be sold openly; at the right was the dining room. The door to the dining room was closed; that into the bar stood open—and there was her danger. She must pass that door without being seen. Once outside, the danger decreased almost to a minimum. Could she reach the shelter of the woods, she felt she would be safe.
She crept downward; reached the ground floor and flattened herself against the wall. What if the front door should open and somebody should enter?... She hesitated, then peered cautiously through the door and into the bar.... As she did so she heard an automobile drive up in front and stop.... In the bar she saw Peewee Bangs sitting, his feet on a table, reading a newspaper.
Feet ascended the steps outside, and she cowered. A hand rattled the knob, and she heard Bangs drop his feet to the floor, with the scrape of his chair as he turned.... The door opened. Something, not conscious volition, moved Carmel. As the door opened and a man stepped in, she sprang forward, brushed past him, and ran down the steps. Behind her she heard a shout—the squeaky voice of PeeweeBangs.... Before her stood a Ford, its engine agitating the whole car, and she ran toward it and threw herself into the seat. In an instant she had grasped the wheel and adjusted her foot to the clutch.... Then she was conscious of a jar, and out of the corner of her eye saw Bangs’s face, distorted with rage, saw his hand reaching for her arm.... She screamed. Then her hand, chance led, fell upon the seat, encountered a heavy wrench.... She lifted it, dashed it with all her strength into that inhuman face.... It vanished.... The next thing of which she became clearly conscious was of speed, of a rocking, bounding car.... She was free, had escaped her pursuer, and was rushing with every ounce of power the little car possessed toward Gibeon....
Was there a car to follow her? A larger, more powerful, faster car?... She did not know. She glanced behind. There was nothing yet, no pursuing headlight. Carmel gripped the wheel and threw down the gas lever to its final notch.... Around corners, through puddles, over patches rutted by heavy wheels, she forced the little car. It rocked, skidded, threatened, but always righted itself and kept on its way.... She looked behind again.... Headlights!... By this time she must be half a mile or more from the hotel. It would be a good car which could make up that lead in the short distance to Gibeon.... Yet, as she looked back from time to time, the headlights drew closer and closer.... She could see straggling lights now—the fringe of thevillage.... Would they dare follow her into the town itself? She fancied not.... The bridge lay before her—and the pursuing car roared not a hundred yards behind. She swept across the river and sped down Main Street at a rate never witnessed before by that drowsy thoroughfare.... She was safe.... Before her was the Town Hall—lighted brightly.... She looked back. The pursuing car was not to be seen.
The town meeting! The citizens of Gibeon were there upon the town’s business. She brought the car to a stop before the door, leaped out, and ran up the stairs. The hall was crowded. On the platform stood the chairman of the town board.... Carmel was conscious of no embarrassment, only of the need for haste, of the necessity for finding help. She entered the room and made her way up the aisle to the platform. Without hesitating she mounted the steps, unconscious of the craning of necks, the whisperings, the curiosity her arrival was causing.
The chairman halted in his remarks. Carmel, in her excitement, ignored him, almost shouldered him aside.
“Men—men of Gibeon,” she said, “crime is being committed, perhaps murder is being done, at this minute.... What are you going to do?”