"The Palace--Bowery," Jimmie Dale answered. "And hurry, Benson!"
CHAPTER XXIII
HUNCHBACK JOE
Jimmy Dale flung himself back on the seat of the big touring car. It was
an address, the Palace Saloon on the Bowery, that he had often given
Benson before--the nearest point to which Benson, trusted as Benson was,
had ever been permitted to approach the Sanctuary itself. The night air,
the sweep of the wind was grateful, as the machine sped forward. He did
not reason, he could not reason--his mind was in turmoil still. Only two
things were clear, distinct, rising dominant out of that turmoil--that
he had heard her voice, her voice that he had never thought to hear
again; and that there was need, a desperate need for haste now, because
he must reach the Sanctuary without an instant's loss of time.
And then gradually his brain began to clear, to adjust itself, to
function normally; and when finally the car drew up at a corner on the
Bowery, it was a Jimmie Dale, keen, self-possessed and alert, who sprang
briskly to the pavement.
"Will you need me any further, sir?" Benson asked.
Jimmie Dale was lighting a cigarette deliberately--it was the same
question that he was pondering in his own mind, but the answer was
dependent upon the contents of that note which was waiting for him in
the Sanctuary.
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