With a cry, that to Jimmie Dale seemed one of more poignant anguish than
he had ever heard before, the old gentleman caught her in his arms and
supported her to a chair; then running quickly to the hall, called
loudly for the maid below.
There was a merciless smile on Jimmie Dale's lips. He was retreating now
further back into the room toward the door that gave on the hall.
"I wonder," said Jimmie Dale to himself through set teeth, "I wonder if
a man wouldn't be justified in putting an end _for keeps_ to that devil
Thorold for this!"
He heard the maid come rushing up the stairs. He could no longer see
into the other room now, but a confused mingling of voices reached him:
"... The police ... next door and telephone ... the light ... while we
were at dinner...."
Jimmie Dale opened the door, slipped across the hall, made his way
silently and swiftly down the stairs, and with the single precaution of
pulling his slouch hat far down over his eyes, stepped boldly out of the
front door, walked quietly down the steps, walked briskly, but without
apparent haste, along the street--and turned the first corner.
CHAPTER V
"DEATH TO THE GRAY SEAL!"
Jimmie Dale hurried now, making his way to the nearest subway station,
and took a downtown train.
Pages:
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81