CHAPTER IV.
CRIMINALS, CHEMICALS, AND A CRUCIBLE.
Smokingmay, as some good folk aver, be a vile and filthy habit, but it was the fact that I am a smoker which saved my life that night. On my way to the den I had fancied a pipe, and finding I had no matches, had been at the outlay of a penny in the purchase of a box. But for the fact that I happened to have these lucifers with me, and so was able to obtain a light, I should have blundered into the trap that was so cunningly set for me. But for the fact that, in the moment of striking the match, the light had fallen upon the kitchen door, and I had seen that a key stood in the lock on the outside, I might never have needed pipe or matches more.
To remount the stairs would have been madness, for the four men—two above and two below—would thus have me at such disadvantage between them, that my fight for life was likely to be short. To go forward, weaponless as I was, with two armed andsturdy ruffians waiting for me at the street door and possibly with two others prepared to act as reinforcements outside—would have been equally mad, especially as the leader and his confederate were already almost on my heels, and so could knock me on the head from behind. But the key on the outside of the kitchen door offered me the chance at least of a fight for my life. Whisking it out, quicker than any conjuror, I threw open the door, and shutting it with a bang as I entered the kitchen, set my left knee and the whole weight of my shoulders and body against the panels, while I slipped the key into its place, and, turning it, locked myself in, and my opponents out.
The next moment I heard the voice of the leader on the stairs outside:
"What's that? Who's gone into the kitchen? You cursed bunglers! Don't say you haven't killed your man. He mustn't leave the place alive. It's Robert Grant, the detective. I'd had word that he'd tracked us, and meant trying to get in here to-night. Parker and Smudgy, fast as you can to the yard. If you look slippy and put your back into it, you'll be in time to cut off his escape, should he try to get outbehind. If he does, kill him on the spot. No mistake about it this time, mind, even if you have to shoot! Now go. Joggers, you and I'll see to things this side. First shut and lock the front door, and pocket the key. It'll be safer so. We've got to break in this door, and if he managed to rush us, he might slip past, and so get out. Have you got your knife and revolver handy? Be ready to use 'em the instant the door's down."
Clearly I had no time to spare. Striking another vesta I took one lightning peep around. By the light I saw that what, when I had peeped into the room before, I had taken to be an ordinary kitchen copper, was a strange-looking vat, with something like a stove under it.
Opening a cupboard which the darkness had caused me to overlook on my previous entrance, I saw that the top shelf was full of bottles, jars, and tins, all containing what I took to be chemicals. On the bottom shelf was something like a crucible, and beside it lay half a dozen metal things shaped like neckless bottles, and reminding me a little of artillery slugs. What did it all mean? Was I in a coiners' den—an illicitdistillery—an infernal machine factory? Ha! I must be off! Already someone was making frantic but systematic efforts to prise open the door.
One more hurried glance around. Who knew but that I might light upon something in the nature of a clue to the mystery? No; that was all. Except for the things of which I have spoken, the place was absolutely empty.
Stop a moment. What was that lying curled up in a corner? A cat—a dog? No; it was a fur cap.
Bang! They were trying to break open the door. The next instant I was at the window. Screwed up, was it? No matter. Snatching up the fur cap and twisting it around my fist that it might serve as a sort of buffer or boxing-glove, and so protect my hand from broken glass, I knocked out enough of the framework, and of the glass, to allow me to scramble through, with no more serious hurt than a few scratches and some rents in my clothing. Within the next ten seconds I was across the yard, and, by the aid of an empty box, had scaled the wall, and was over on the waste land. Here I stopped for an instant to take my bearings,for at that moment the inconsiderate moon broke out from behind the clouds, and with such brightness that I could scarcely hope to escape being seen, and so would have been an easy target for a passable marksman. The piece of waste land was enclosed on my right and on my left by corrugated zinc fences. I could easily have climbed them, but the scuffling and scraping of my feet and body against the metal would have advertised my whereabouts to the enemy; and by this time I knew that the two men, Smudgy and Parker, whom their leader had sent to cut off my retreat, must be close at hand. Selecting the fence which cast the darker shadow, I made straight for it, and then turning off at right angles, I scuttled along half crouching, and keeping as close to cover as a mouse keeps to the wainscot when hieing him to his hole. I was now going—and purposely—in the direction of the river, where the fencing was of wood, not of metal, and so might be scaled less noiselessly. Moreover, two or three stunted trees threw ragged shadows across the moonlight in that quarter, and so might serve to screen me from my pursuers. Just as I reached these trees I heard voices on theother side, so I dropped like a dead thing in the shadow at the foot of the fence, and lay listening.
I was none too soon, for the next instant someone scrambled up on the other side of the fence, to spy out the land. For a moment I feared that I was discovered, though I dared not look up. I knew by the place from which the sound came that the speaker was exactly over my head.
"Can't see anything, Smudgy," the voice said. "But I can hear the Dumpling breaking in the door. We'll hop over and make sure that Grant doesn't get out by the window. You go one side of that iron fence and I'll go the other, and then, between us, we can't miss him if he comes out; but stay in the shadow till you get to the house.
"Keep your eyes skinned, for if we were to miss our man this time, the Dumpling would be like a madman. Steady does it. Right O! But stop a moment. What's that in the shadow there, under the trees, just where I jumped?"