"Never mind what you told me," said the Jew. "What shall we do with him? He knows!"Ford's mind was working swiftly. He had no real fear of personal danger for the girl or himself. The Jew, he argued, was no fool. He would not risk his neck by open murder. And, as he saw it, escape with the girl might still be possible. He had only to conceal from Prothero his knowledge of the line of retreat over the house-tops, explain his rain-soaked condition, and wait a better chance.
To this end he proceeded to lie briskly and smoothly.
"Of course I know," he taunted. He pointed to his dripping garments. "Do you know where I've been? In the street, placing my men. I have this house surrounded. I am going to walk down those stairs with this young lady. If you try to stop me I have only to blow my police-whistle----""And I will blow your brains out!" interrupted the Jew. It was a most unsatisfactory climax.
"You have not been in the street," said Prothero. "You are wet because you hung out of your window signalling to your friend. Do you know why he did not answer your second signal? Because he is lying in an area, with a knife in him!""You lie!" cried Ford.
"YOU lie," retorted the Jew quietly, "when you say your men surround this house. You are alone. You are NOT in the police service, you are a busybody meddling with men who think as little of killing you as they did of killing your friend. My servant was placed to watch your window, saw your signal, reported to me. And I found your assistant and threw him into an area, with a knife in him!"Ford felt the story was untrue. Prothero was trying to frighten him. Out of pure bravado no sane man would boast of murder.
But--and at the thought Ford felt a touch of real fear--was the man sane? It was a most unpleasant contingency. Between a fight with an angry man and an insane man the difference was appreciable. From this new view-point Ford regarded his adversary with increased wariness; he watched him as he would a mad dog. He regretted extremely he had not brought his revolver.
With his automatic pistol still covering Ford, Prothero spoke to Pearsall.
"I found him," he recited, as though testing the story he would tell later, "prowling through my house at night. Mistaking him for a burglar, I killed him. The kitchen window will be found open, with the lock broken, showing how he gained an entrance. "Why not?"he demanded.
"Because," protested Pearsall, in terror, "the man outside will tell----"Ford shouted in genuine relief.
Exactly !" he cried. "The man outside, who is not down an area with a knife in him, but who at this moment is bringing the police -he will tell!"As though he had not been interrupted, Prothero continued thoughtfully:
"What they may say he expected to find here, I can explain away later. The point is that I found a strange man, hatless, dishevelled, prowling in my house. I called on him to halt; he ran, I fired, and unfortunately killed him. An Englishman's home is his castle; an English jury----""An English jury," said Ford briskly, "is the last thing you want to meet---- It isn't a Chicago jury."The Jew flung back his head as though Ford had struck him in the face.
"Ah!" he purred, "you know that, too, do you?" The purr increased to a snarl. "You know too much!"For Pearsall, his tone seemed to bear an alarming meaning. He sprang toward Prothero, and laid both hands upon his disengaged arm.
"For God's sake," he pleaded, "come away! He can't hurt you-- not alive; but dead, he'll hang you--hang us both. We must go, now, this moment." He dragged impotently at the left arm of the giant.
"Come!" he begged.
Whether moved by Pearsall's words or by some thought of his own, Prothero nodded in assent. He addressed himself to Ford.
"I don't know what to do with you," he said, "so I will consult with my friend outside this door. While we talk, we will lock you in. We can hear any move you make. If you raise the window or call I will open the door and kill you--you and that woman!"With a quick gesture, he swung to the door, and the spring lock snapped. An instant later the bolts were noisily driven home.
When the second bolt shot into place, Ford turned and looked at Miss Dale.
This is a hell of a note!" he said
