CHAPTER XIII--KIDNAPED
Somewhere a clock was striking ten as the Phantom withdrew the bolt and,silent as a cat, stepped out into the hall. He leaned over thebalustrade and looked down. From the rear came an occasional tinkle ofglassware. Doctor Bimble, never dreaming that his guest was foolhardyenough to leave his secure retreat a second time, was evidently at workin his laboratory. Noiselessly the Phantom stole down the stairs,carefully testing each step before he intrusted his weight to it. Thedoor opened without a sound, and he darted a quick glance up and downthe street.
A fine drizzle was falling and the sidewalks glistened in the lightsfrom the street lamps and windows. There was a thin sprinkling ofpedestrians in the thoroughfare. Outside a pool room across the streetstood a group of loafers, and a band of gospel workers was addressing anapathetic crowd on the nearest corner. The Phantom was about to stepaway from the door when he saw something that caused him to press closeto the wall.
"Our friend Pinto," he mused as a thickset figure jogged past. "Seems abit distracted this evening. Wonder what's up."
The policeman passed on with only a perfunctory glance in the Phantom'sdirection. There was something about his gait and the way he swung hisbaton which suggested that his mind was not quite at ease. The Phantomwaited until he had turned the corner, then crept out of the doorway,assuming an easy, swinging gait as he struck the sidewalk and turnedwest.
The streets had their usual humdrum appearance, but beneath the calm onthe surface he sensed a tension and an air of repressed activity. Itmight have been only imagination, but he thought people were regardingeach other with covert suspicion, as if friends and neighbors were nolonger to be trusted. The Phantom sauntering along as if he had not acare in the world, turned into the Bowery and proceeded toward thenearest station of the elevated railway. No taxicabs were in sight, buthe would be comparatively safe once he was aboard a train.
He whistled a merry little tune, but he was uncomfortably aware that thecut and quality of his clothes were attracting attention in that squalidneighborhood. Now he was only a few paces from the elevated stairs. Thespace immediately in front of him was brightly illuminated by a cornerlight, and each forward step was taken at great risk. He advanced withan air of unconcern, glanced languidly at the papers and magazinesspread out on the news stall, and in another moment he would have beenstarting up the stairs.
Just then he felt the sharp scrutiny of a pair of eyes. Their owner, hefancied, was stationed in the dark doorway of an abandoned cornersaloon, only a few steps from the foot of the stairway, but he dared notlook back or sideways. In a second he had rallied his wits to theemergency. To show the slightest nervousness or seem in a hurry wouldinstantly provoke a sharp command to halt. He purchased a newspaper,glanced disdainfully at the headlines on the first page, and waschuckling over a cartoon on the sporting page as he leisurely began toascend the stairs.
A loud rumbling told that a train was approaching. The Phantom pursuedhis unhurried pace, conscious that the owner of the prying eyes hadstepped out of the doorway and was regarding him suspiciously. Suddenly,as he reached a turn in the stairs, a cry rang out:
"Stop!"
The Phantom looked down with an air of idle curiosity, as if it wereunthinkable that the command could be meant for him, and climbed on. Hehad almost reached the top when a second and more insistent cry sounded.
"Hey, there! I mean _you_!"
The Phantom climbed the remaining steps, reaching the ticket window justas a train roared into the station. Three sharp taps sounded against thesidewalk below, followed by a shrill blast of a police whistle. ThePhantom dropped his ticket in the chopper and stepped out on theplatform. The train gates were open and a few passengers were gettingaboard. For a moment he hesitated; then he hurried swiftly to the end ofthe deserted platform and leaped out on the narrow walk used by trackworkers.
The train rolled out of the station. The Phantom, lying flat, guessedthat the agent at the next stop had already been notified to hold it forsearch, and it was this circumstance that had decided him againstgetting aboard. From the street rose a great hubbub. He began to crawlalong the narrow span, screened from sight by a heavy beam. Each momentwas precious now, for soon the police would learn that the Phantom wasnot on the train, and then they would guess that he was hiding somewhereon the platform or the track.
He had crawled the length of half a block when he stopped and lookeddown. The commotion at the corner had ceased, but as he glanced behindhim he saw that several dark forms were moving rapidly across theplatform, as if looking for someone. At the point where he lay thestreet was dimly lighted and almost deserted. Agilely he swung his bodyfrom the walk, clutched the beam with both hands until he could obtain afoothold along one of the heavy iron pillars that supported thestructure, then slid quickly to the ground. Standing in the shadow ofthe pillar, he looked about him. Apparently he had not been seen, but ina few moments a dragnet would be thrown around the vicinity, and hewould have to exercise the utmost speed and caution if he was to escape.
Quickly he dodged into a side street. On the corner was a patrol box,and, even as he glanced at it, the bulb at the top of the pole flashedinto a green brilliance. He knew what the signal meant. A general alarmhad been sent out, spreading the news that the Gray Phantom had beenseen. He hurried on, but he had not reached far when a patrolmanappeared around the opposite corner, forcing him to take refuge in adark cellarway. Luckily the green light had already attracted thepoliceman's attention, and he hurried past the point where the Phantomwas hidden, and made for the box on the corner. While the bluecoat wasreceiving his instructions from the station house the Phantom crawledout of his retreat and, clinging close to the shadows along the walls,hastened in the other direction.
He was very cautious now. Once out of the immediate neighborhood, thegreatest danger would be past, but for the present every step of the waybristled with perils. A taxicab hove into sight as he reached anintersection of streets, but the chauffeur showed no inclination to heedhis signal. The Phantom placed himself directly in the path of theonrushing vehicle. It stopped with a grinding of brakes, accompaniedwith a medley of oaths.
"What d'ye mean?" demanded the chauffeur. "Can't you see I'm busy?"
"Double fare," suggested the Phantom temptingly.
A sharp glance shot out from beneath the visor of the driver's cap."Where to?"
"South Ferry," said the Phantom, though his actual destination was agood distance short of that point.
"All right," with a shrewd glance at his fare. "Get in."
He held the door open and the Phantom entered the cab. They hadproceeded only a short distance, however, when the passenger pinned abill to the cushion, cautiously stepped out on to the running board andhopped off in the middle of a dark block. He had not quite approved ofthe chauffeur's looks.
Just ahead of him lay the wholesale section of Broadway, at that time ofnight as gloomy and lifeless a stretch of thoroughfare as can be foundin all New York. The Phantom walked briskly to the corner and wasturning south when he all but collided with a red-faced heavy-jowledpoliceman.
"Pardon," he said lightly. Quickly he stuck a cigar between his lips,tugging at his mustache with one hand and exploring his vest pocket withthe other. "By the way, officer, happen to have a match?"
The officer produced the desired article, and in return the Phantomproffered a cigar while he lighted his own. With a hearty "Thank you,sor," the policeman put the weed in his pocket and trudged on, decidinghe would smoke the affable stranger's cigar when he went off duty. Hedidn't, however. After straightening out certain tangles in his mind andarriving at certain conclusions, Officer McCloskey resolved to keep thecigar as a souvenir of the occasion when he accommodated the GrayPhantom with a match.
Chuckling at the happy circumstances that some policemen are moregullible than others, the Phantom hurried forward in the shadows of tallbrick buildings. He thought he had left the zone of greatest dangerbehind him, but the utmost caution w
as still needed; the crucial testwould not come until he reached his destination. As often before, he wasrelying for success and safety on the fact that he was doing the verything a hunted man was least likely to do.
A hansom drawn by a scraggy nag came toward him and drew up at the curbon his signal. He fixed an appraising look on the driver, adespondent-looking individual in sadly dilapidated livery, whose soleconcern in his prospective passenger seemed to have to do with thecollecting of a generous fare.
"Drive me to the _Sphere_ office," directed the Phantom, satisfied withhis inspection of the man on the box.
He climbed in, and a crack of the whip startled the nag into activity.The Phantom, tingling with a familiar sensation, leaned back against thecushion and watched long rows of somber buildings stream past. He wasbent on a madcap adventure, and the details of his plan were stillvague, but if the scheme succeeded he would have gained an importantadvantage. His task, besides being difficult and dangerous, was alsosomewhat strange to him. Many sensational ventures embellished his past,but he had never until now essayed a kidnaping, at least not undercircumstances like these.
The vista brightened. A short distance ahead loomed the MunicipalBuilding and the Woolworth Tower. Serenely the cab jogged into City HallPark, carrying its passenger into a brightly lighted square that even atnight stirred with activity and bristled with a thousand dangers. Thehansom stopped, and the Phantom gazed a trifle dubiously at a tallbuilding from which issued the clatter of linotype machines and the dullrumble of presses.
"Here we are, sir," observed the jehu expectantly, speaking through thetrap over the passenger's head.
The Phantom did not move. The entrance of the _Sphere_ building wasbrightly lighted and people were constantly passing in either direction.On the corner, keenly scanning the face of each passer-by, stood alordly policeman. The Phantom counted his chances, knowing that muchmore than his personal freedom was at stake. The mustache, his soledisguise, seemed inadequate. He might be recognized by anyone in thepassing throng who chanced to give him a second glance, and he wouldface another ticklish situation when he was inside the building.
"Didn't you say the _Sphere_, sir?" inquired the driver.
The Phantom was about to reply when fate unexpectedly stepped in andsolved his problem. A few vigorous expressions spoken in loud andboisterous tones drew his attention to the doorway. A gaudily garbedperson who seemed to be in an advanced stage of inebriation was beingpropelled through the door by a stocky man with a reddish and determinedface. As he caught a glimpse of the tipsy individual's features, thePhantom started and wedged his figure into the farther corner of thehansom.
From his well-filled wallet he took a bill and thrust it through thetrap. The jehu took it, stared for a moment at the numeral in thecorner, which was imposing enough to corrupt stancher souls than his,then listened attentively to the instructions his fare was giving in lowand hurried tones.
"I get you, sir," was his comment. "Leave it to me."
In the meantime the stout person had given the tipsy one a finaldeparting shove, and now he stood aside, with thumbs crooked in thearmpits of his vest, his face glowing with the consciousness of a jobwell performed. His victim picked himself up with great difficulty andlooked about him with groggy eyes while loudly proclaiming how he wouldavenge the affront.
"Cab, sir?" invitingly inquired the jehu.
The inebriate one careened forward, blinked his eyes and, with headwagging limply from side to side, gave the hansom a slanting look.Evidently it met his approval, for he nodded and staggered closer. Thedriver jumped from the box and obligingly assisted his new fare to theseat. A moment later the cab was dashing away from the curb, followed bythe amused glances of several spectators.
The tipsy passenger, sprawling lumpishly in his seat, rolled a little toone side as the conveyance turned a corner. To his amazement his headstruck someone's shoulder; then a firm, low voice spoke in his ear:
"Tommie Granger, you're just the person I have been looking for."
The Gray Phantom's Return Page 13