CHAPTER XVI
IN THE DARK
Though Ashton-Kirk was as sure Sorakicha stood behind him as he wouldhave been had his eyes rested upon him, he did not turn his head. Theman's entrance had been effected almost without sound; the rustling ofthe curtains had been no louder than a lightly drawn breath.
"And now," reflected the secret agent, calmly, "he is waiting behind meuntil he is told what to do. I trust that I shall be sufficientlyfortunate as to catch the signal."
But he continued to lounge back in his chair with crossed legs,balancing the stick lightly between his fingers. Okiu stood regardinghim with careful attention.
"Yes," he continued, "I now see that it is probable that you are what Ihave always understood you to be--a man of exceptional talents. No one,"with a slow smile, "cares to admit that he is dull of perception, but Iconfess, sir, that in this matter, in which I have been judging you, youmay have been more successful than I have imagined."
"It is more or less difficult to follow the workings of a mind, theowner of which is not under one's immediate observation," returnedAshton-Kirk, philosophically. "So, looking at the matter from that pointof view, you have nothing to chide yourself for."
But Okiu paid no attention to this; apparently he was grappling with amore concrete matter.
"What you have said interests me," he said. "And so," putting his handsupon the table, and leaning across to the other, "the paper has beenfound?"
"You might call it finding it, if you were at loss for an expression,"replied Ashton-Kirk. "Though on second thought, I confess I should applyanother term, myself."
"We will not discuss terms," said Okiu gently. "Let us call the matterof getting the desired thing what you please; there are more importantmatters to think about just now." He still bent forward, his handsresting upon the table; his expressionless face was held close to thatof the secret agent. "And so," said he, "you could place your hand uponthe person who now has the paper, could you? That is interesting. Andstill more interesting is the fact that you could do it in a very fewmoments."
Ashton-Kirk nodded and smiled.
"It gives us all a certain satisfaction to learn that we areinteresting," said he. "This is so almost at any time. But at a momentlike this--when interest is created in a person who had utterly lostconfidence--it is doubly pleasing."
"Perhaps," said Okiu, and the purr in his low-pitched voice was morepronounced than the secret agent had ever heard it before, "you haveoccasion for satisfaction; and then perhaps you have not."
Ashton-Kirk met the black, heavy-lidded eyes squarely.
"Will you be more explicit?" he said.
"I can see no harm that it will do _now_," said the other, and thesecret agent quietly noted the emphasis which he laid upon the lastword. "So the facts are these. Though I regard you as a sort of fellowworkman, and though I have a very definite admiration for your talents,still your interests are arrayed, so to speak, against mine; and thisbeing the case----"
THE GLITTERING EYES LIFTED]
Here he paused. The glittering eyes lifted and darted a look overAshton-Kirk's shoulder to the waiting Sorakicha. But even then the othermaintained his lounging attitude and his manner remained unruffled.
"Well?" said he, inquiringly.
"This being the case," said Okiu, smoothly, "I have thought it bestto----"
One of the supple hands began to rise; as it stirred, Ashton-Kirklaunched a kick at the table which threw it against the Oriental anddrove him back several steps. At the same instant as he delivered thekick, the secret agent bent low and leaped forward. The great arms ofthe wrestler closed above the chair upon empty space; then the lightcane swished through the air; the globes of the cluster of lights whichhad hung over the table fell in a shower of fragments, and instantly theroom was plunged into darkness.
Softly, and with the catlike quickness of Sorakicha himself, the secretagent gained the door. He had fixed its location in his mind, and so hadno trouble finding it in the dark. It opened as he turned the knob; thehall too was dark, and he slipped into it, closing the door behind him.
Carefully, but with some speed, he passed along the hall, his handsoutstretched like the antennae of an insect. From the room which he hadjust left came the sounds of stumbling feet and the confused outcries ofangry men.
Just as the door was thrown open, Ashton-Kirk felt his hand touch thestair-rail; and he softly descended as the feet of the two Japanesesounded in the hall behind him. The lower hall was also dark; butthrough a fanlight he caught the gleam of a street lamp.
"The front door," he told himself, as he carefully made his way towardit. But it was fast. Up and down its edges ran his fingers; but therewas no bar, chain nor catch; the bolt of the lock was shot, and the keyhad been removed. He turned with his back to the door and listened; theOrientals were stealing down the stairs.
For the second time that night his hand went into the outside coatpocket in search of the pistol. But, this time, when the hand slippedfrom the pocket, the weapon came with it. Silently he stood there in theshadows that lurked beneath the fanlight; the creeping sounds from thestaircase continued and then paused. There was complete silence.
"They are listening," was Ashton-Kirk's thought. "They think that thefanlight may have attracted me, and desire to make sure."
At any moment he expected a flare of light, but none came; neither didhe hear any further sounds. He held the pistol hand close to his body,the muzzle commanding the hall; the fact that ten grim, copper-cladservants of death stood between him and his foes was reassuring, and hecontinued to await the development of the situation.
For a long time there was silence; then he heard the creeping resumed;his jaw tightened and his grip upon the pistol butt grew more rigid. Butanother instant told him something else. The Japanese were not advancingas he had expected; instead they were retreating along the upper hall.
"They have made up their minds to the situation," was Ashton-Kirk'sexplanation. "And as facing a stream of bullets does not enter intotheir calculations, they are about to try something else."
This latter, of course, would be based upon his remaining where he was;and at once he took steps toward the confusion of things by also movingalong the hall in the same direction as the others. He had noticed uponhis entrance to the house that the hall was almost bare of furniture, sothere was small danger of his colliding with anything. Little by littlehe went on; now and then he paused and listened intently. But there wasno sound, however slight. At length his hands touched a smooth surface.It was a door; cautiously he turned the knob and opened it. The roombefore him was as dark as the hall; and he halted with the door only afew inches ajar, peering within.
"It's a room on the north side, and well toward the rear," passedthrough his mind, "and it's only natural to suppose that there arewindows in it. The blinds must be tightly drawn, for I can't make outeven a glimmer of light."
He waited a little, his pistol held ready, then he stepped into theroom. The first thing that attracted him was a thin, bright line whichapparently lay upon the floor at his right. He studied this for a momentand then it occurred to him what it was. There was a light in anadjoining room, and the rays were seeping under the door. Again hewaited, and listened. It had been his purpose to locate a window,unfasten it, and so make his way to the open air; but the light in theroom beyond indicated the presence of someone so close at hand as tomake this proceeding perilous.
But as no sound came from the lighted room, he made up his mind toventure nearer. He had taken but one step, however, when a board creakedbehind him in the darkness. Poised for the next step he halted and againstood listening. Nothing followed, and the breath slowly exhaled fromhis lungs, his flexed muscles relaxed, and he settled back upon his feetfor another spell of silence. He had just about made up his mind thatthe creak had been caused by himself, when he became aware of anotherand barely discernible sound. It was soft and hissing, a sort ofrubbing, as though one smoothly-surfaced thing were drawn acro
ssanother. Like a flash the secret agent realized what it was. Some onestood in the doorway with his hands outstretched, as his own had been,and it was their contact with the door frame that made the sound.
Then there came a step, slow, careful, light; a pause followed and thenthe unknown's breathing could be distinctly heard. Another stepfollowed, cautious, muffled, secret; and again came the pause.
The grip of the secret agent tightened upon the pistol; he faced aboutsoftly to meet the newcomer, whom a few steps would bring to his side.
But now the steps ceased, and though he listened with eager ears,Ashton-Kirk failed to note their resumption. This struck him as odd;there had been no sound, nothing that could have startled the other intoa longer pause than formerly; and yet that he was standing stock-stillsomewhere in the darkness was unquestionable. Then like lightning itoccurred to Ashton-Kirk why this was. Judging from the footfalls, hestood between the unknown and the door under which crept the line oflight; and the break in this line, caused by his intervening feet, hadcaught the other's attention.
Gradually the secret agent became aware of the unknown's breathing; atfirst it was scarcely discernible, but little by little it grew inrapidity and harshness; it became labored, straining and drawn withincreasing difficulty; as plainly as words could have done it, it spokeof mounting excitement and a quickly forming purpose.
The automatic pistol began to lift--but too late. Like a wild beast theunknown leaped through the darkness, and a pair of long powerful armsenwrapped the secret agent. The pistol fell to the floor, and therebegan a desperate struggle for the mastery. By a few swift twists andthe free use of his knee, Ashton-Kirk managed to free his arms whichhad been pinioned at his sides; then he drove one elbow into hisopponent's neck, and they went reeling blindly about.
There was a moment of this, then the attack of the unknown abated; itwere as though he had felt his adversary out and found him rather morethan a match. And with this discovery came new tactics. Ashton-Kirk feltthe rugged grasp grow still slacker; one hand slipped away altogether.This could mean only that it was feeling in unseen pockets for a weapon;and upon this the secret agent began to fight silently, swiftly,desperately.
A series of short jarring blows drove the other back; a short powerfullock lifted him from his feet. But with a frenzied wrench the man brokethe hold, and as he did so they both fell with their full weight againstthe door under which the light was shining. It gave way with a crash,and a flood of illumination poured upon them.
And with the first flash of it, Ashton-Kirk saw a hand armed with a"billy" lifted to strike him; and behind it was the white, desperateface of the man who had followed him into the room--the face of PhilipWarwick. And as recognition came, the wrist bent with a quick practisedjerk, the leather-covered lead descended, and Ashton-Kirk fell proneupon the floor.
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