The City of Fire
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Grace Livingston Hill >> The City of Fire
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"Young--man! An--swer me!--_Ware_--you--or ware you--_not_--
at--the--Blue--Duck--Tavern--last--evening?"
Blue and red lights seemed to flicker in the cold steel eyes of the
young man.
"I _was!_"
"A--hemmm!" The elder glanced around triumphantly, and went on with the
examination:
"Well,--young _man!_--Ware you--or--ware you _not_--
accompanied--by a young wumman--of--notorious--I may say--infamous
character? In other words--a young girl--commonly called--Cherry?
Cherry Fenner I believe is her whole name. Ware you with her?"
Mark's face was set, his eyes were glaring. The minister felt that if
Harricutt had dared look up he would almost be afraid, now.
But after an instant's hesitation when it almost looked as if Mark were
struggling with desire to administer corporal punishment to the little
old bigot, he lifted his head defiantly and replied in hard tones as
before:
"I _was!"_
"There!" said Elder Harricutt, wetting his lips and smiling fiendishly
around the group, "There! Didn't I tell you?"
"May I inquire," asked Mark startlingly, "What business of yours it
is?"
Harricutt bristled.
"What business? What _business?"_ he repeated severely, "Why, this
business, young man. Your name is on our church roll as a member in
good and regular standing! For sometime past you have been dragging the
name of our Lord and Saviour in the dust of dishonor by your goings on.
It is our responsibility as elders of this church to see that this goes
on no longer."
"I see!" said Mark, "I haven't heard from any of the other elders on
the subject, but assuming that you are all of one mind--" he swept the
room with his glance, omitting the stricken faces of the minister and
Mr. Duncannon, "I will relieve you of further responsibility in the
matter by asking you to strike my name from the roll at once."
He was turning, his look of white still scorn fell upon them like fire
that scorches. Outside the door Billy, forgetful that he might be seen,
was peering in, his brows down in deep scawls, his lower jaw protruded,
his grimy fists clenched. A fraction of a second longer and Billy would
butt into the session like some mad young goat. Respect for the
session? Not he! They were bullying his idol, Cart, who had already
gone through death and still lived! They should see! Aw Gee!
But a diversion occurred just in the nick of time. It was Joyce, the
new member, the owner of the canneries, who had just built a new house
with electric appliances, and owned the best car in town. He was a
stickler for proprieties, but he was a great admirer of the minister,
and he had been watching Mr. Severn's face. Also, he had watched
Mark's.
"Now, now, _now,_ young brother!" he said soothingly, rising in
his nice pleasant gentlemanly way, "don't be hasty! This can all be
adjusted I am sure if we fully understand one another. I am a
comparative stranger here I know, but I would suggest taking this thing
quietly and giving Mr. Carter a chance to explain himself. You must
own, Brother Carter, that we had some reason to be anxious. You know,
the Bible tells us to avoid even the appearance of evil."
Mark turned with perfect courtesy to this new voice:
"The Bible also tells us not to judge one another!" he replied quickly.
"Mr. Joyce, you are a stranger here, but I am not. They have known me
since childhood. Also there are some items that might be of interest to
you. Cherry Fenner five years ago was a little girl in this Sunday
School. She stood up in that pulpit out there one Children's Sunday and
sang in a sweet little voice, 'Jesus loves me this I know, for the
Bible tells me so.' She was an innocent little child then, and
everybody praised her. Now, because she has been talked about you are
all ready to condemn her. And who is going to help her? I tell you if
that is the kind of Christ you have, and the kind of Bible you are
following I want no more of it and I am ready to have my name taken off
the roll at once."
Harricutt rose in his excitement pointing his long-flapping forefinger:
"You see, gentlemen, you see! He defies us! He goes farther! He defies
his God!"
Suddenly the minister rose with uplifted hand, and the voice that never
failed to command attention, spoke:
"Let us pray!"
With sudden startled indrawing of breath, and half obedient bowing of
the heads, the elders paused, standing or sitting as they were, and
Mark with high defiant head stood looking straight at his old friend.
"Oh, God, our Father, O Jesus Christ our Saviour," prayed the minister
in a voice that showed he felt the Presence near, "Save us in this
trying moment from committing further sin. Give us Thy wisdom, and Thy
loving-kindness. Show us that only he that is without sin among us may
cast the first stone. Put thy love about us all. We are all Thy
children. Amen."
Into the silence that followed this prayer his voice continued quietly:
"I will ask Mr. Harricutt to take the chair for a moment. I would like
to make a motion."
The elders looked abashed.
"Why,--I,--" began Harricutt, and then saw there was nothing else for
him to do, and stepped excitedly over to the minister's seat behind the
table, and sank reluctantly down, trying to think how he could best
make use of his present position to further his side of the question.
The minister was still standing, seeming to hold within his gaze the
eyes of every one in the room including Mark.
"I wish to make a motion," said the minister, "I move that we have a
rising vote, expressing our utmost confidence in Mr. Carter, and
leaving it to his discretion to explain his conduct or not as he
pleases! I have known this dear young brother since he was a boy, and I
would trust him always, anywhere, with anything!"
A wonderful shiny look of startled wonder, and deep joy came into the
eyes of the young man, followed by a stabbing cloud of anguish, and
then the hard controlled face once more, with the exception of a
certain tenderness as he looked toward the minister.
"Mr. Duncannon, will you second my motion?" finished Severn.
The long gaunt dark elder was on his feet instantly:
"Sure, Brother Severn, I second that motion. If you hadn't got ahead of
me I'd have firsted it myself. I know Mark. He's _all right!_" and
he put out a hairy hand and grasped Mark's young strong fingers, that
gripped his warmly.
Harricutt was on his feet, tapping on the table with his pencil:
"I think this motion is out of order," he cried excitedly--but no one
listened, and the minister said calmly, "Will the chair put the
question?"
Baffled, angry, bitter, the old stickler went through the hated words:
"It is moved and seconded that we express our confidence--"
"Utmost confidence, Brother Harricutt--" broke in the minister's voice.
"The red came up in the elder's face, but he choked out the words
"utmost confidence," on through the whole motion, and by the time it
was out four elders were on their feet, Duncannon and Joyce first,
thank God, Gibson, more slowly, Fowler pulled up by the strong wiry
hand of Duncannon who sat next him.
"Stop!" suddenly spoke Mark's clear incisive voice, "I cannot let you
do this. I deeply appreciate the confidence of Mr. Severn and Mr.
Duncannon," he paused looking straight into the eyes of the new elder
and added--"and Mr. Joyce, who does not know me. But I am not worthy of
so deep a trust. I ask you to remove my name from your church roll that
in future my actions shall not be your responsibility!" With that he
gave one lingering tender look toward the minister, pressed hard the
hairy hand of the old Scotch elder, and went out of the room before
anyone realized he was going.
Billy, with a gasp, and a look after his beloved idol, hesitated, then
pulled himself together and made a dash into the session room, like a
catapult landing straight in the spot where Mark had stood, but
ignoring all the rest he looked up at the minister and spoke rapidly:
"Mr. Severn, please sir. Mark was with me last night from twelve
o'clock on. Me an' him passed the Pleasant View Station in a car going
over to Stark's Mountain, just as the bells was ringing over here fer
midnight, cause I counted 'em, and Mark was over to Stark's Mountain
till most noon to-day, and I come home with him!"
The minister's face was blazing with glory, and old Duncannon patted
Billy on the shoulder, and beamed, but Harricutt arose with menace in
his eye and advanced on the young intruder. However, before anyone could
do anything about it a strong firm hand reached out from the doorway
and plucked Billy by the collar:
"That'll do, Kid, Keep your mouth shut and don't say another word!" It
was Mark and he promptly removed Billy from the picture.
"I move we adjourn," said Elder Duncannon, but the minister did not
even wait for the motion to be seconded. He followed Mark out into the
moonlight, and drew him, Billy and all, across the lawn toward the
parsonage, one arm thrown lovingly across Mark's shoulder. He had
forgotten entirely the two guests parked on the piazza smoking
cigarettes!
XII
As the shades of evening had drawn down two figures that had been
lurking all day in the fastnesses of Lone Valley over beyond the state
Highway, stole forth and crept stealthily under cover to Stark
Mountain.
A long time they lingered in the edge of the woods till the dark was
velvet black around them, before the moon arose. Then slowly,
cautiously they drew near the haunted house, observing it long and
silently from every possible angle, till satisfied that no enemy was
about. Yet taking no chances even then, the taller one crept forth from
shelter while the other watched. So stealthily he went that even his
companion heard no stir.
It was some ten minutes that Shorty waited there in the bushes scarcely
daring to breathe, while Link painfully quiet, inch by inch encircled
the house, and listened, trying the front door first and finding it
fast; softly testing the cellar windows one by one, beginning from the
eastern end, going toward the front first, and so missing the window by
which Billy had entered. A hundred times his operation was halted by
the sound of a rat scuttling across the floor, or racketing in the
wall, but the hollow echoes assured him over and over again that the
house was not occupied, at least not by anyone awake and in his senses.
Link had been in the business so long that he "felt" when there was an
enemy near. That was what vexed him now. He had "felt" that morning
that someone was near, but he had laid it to nerves and the reported
ghost, and had not heeded his trained faculties. He was back now doubly
alert to discover the cause and make good his failure in the morning.
He had undertaken to look after this guy and see this job through and
there was big money in it. He was heavily armed and prepared for any
reasonable surprise. He meant to get this matter straight before
morning. So, feeling his way along in the blackness, listening, halting
at every moment with bated breath, he came at last to the back door,
and drawing himself up to the steps, took the knob in his hand and
turned it. To his surprise it yielded to his touch, and the door came
open. And yet it was some seconds of tense listening before he let
himself down to the ground again, and with his hand in the grass let
out a tiny winking flashlight, no more than a firefly would flicker,
and out again.
This was answered by a wink from the bushes, as if the same firefly or
its mate might be glowing, and after an instant another wink from the
ground near the house. Slowly Shorty arrived without noise, his big
bulk muffling in fat the muscles of velvet. It was incredible how light
his step could be--_professionally._ It was as if he had been
wafted there like down. Silently still and without communication the
two drifted into the open door, sent a searching glowworm ahead into
the crannies of the dusty, musty kitchen, surprising a mouse that had
stolen forth domestically. The door being shut and fastened cautiously,
the key in Link's pocket, they drifted through the swing door, as air
might have circulated, identifying the mouse's scuttle, the rattle of a
rat among the loose coal in the cellar bin, the throaty chirp of a
cricket outside in the grass, and drifting on.
Thus they searched the lower floor, even as Billy had done, though more
thoroughly, and mounted to the landing above, here they divided, Shorty
at watch in the hall, while Link went to the front rooms first and
searched each hastily, not omitting closets, ending at the back room
where the prisoner had been.
"He's gone!" said Link in a hoarse whisper, speaking for the first time
after a hasty scanning of the shadowy place.
Shorty took the precaution to turn the key of the door leading to the
third story before he entered to investigate.
"Do you think it was him fired that shot?"
Link shook his head.
"Couldn't! I had him lifted up in my arms and was just handing him some
more dope when the sound come. It seemed it was out front. It must a
been somebody in the front room. Sure! That guy never coulda got them
bracelets off hisself. Looka here! Them was filed off!" They stood with
the flash light between them examining the handcuffs, and then turned
their attention to the rest of the room, studying the bed and floors
carefully for any traces of the possible assistant to the runaway but
finding none. Then they went in the front room again, and this time
discovered the lowered window and the little half moon aperture in the
shutter.
"How do you figger it?" asked Shorty turning a ghastly face toward Link
in the plaided darkness of the flash light.
"Pat!" said Link laconically.
"Pat?"
"Pat. He's yella! I told Sam, but he would have him! I ain't sure but
Sam's yella! I think I'm about done with this outfit!"
"But Pat? What would he do it for?"
"Goin to run the whole game hisself, perhaps, or then again he might be
in with Sam, so they won't have to divvy up. He could say we hadn't
kept out contrac' you know, runnin' away like that."
"We ain't to blame. How'd we know it want the police? We had a mighty
close shave over that state line this A.M."
"Well, that's what he could say, an' refuse to divvy up. But b'lieve
me, Shorty! Nobody's goin' to do me dirty like that! Somebody's been
doing us dirty, you and me, and it's good and right we beat 'em to it."
"Yes, but how ya goin' to do it?"
"I ain't sure yet, but I'm goin' to do it. The first thing, Shorty, is
fer us to get outta here mighty good an' quick. Ef anybody's watchin'
round, we better not be here. We'll fade away. See?"
Without flash or noise they faded, going cautiously out by the front
door this time and disappearing into the dark of the woods just as the
horizon over Lone Valley began to show luminous in the path of the
oncoming moon.
They walked several miles, stealthily, and a mile or two more
naturally, before they ventured on a word, and then Shorty impatiently:
"I don't see what you can do. Whattirya goin' ta do?"
"Don't get excited, Shorty, I see my way out," said Link affably, "I
didn't come off here half cocked. I investigated before I took on the
job."
"Whaddaya mean?"
"Well, I just looked up the parties in the blue book before I come off.
Didn't have much time, but I just looked 'em up. Great thing that blue
book. Gives ya lots of information. Then I got another thing, a
magazine I always buy and keep on hand. It's called The House Lovely,
an' it has all these grand gentlemen's places put down in pictures,
with plans and everything. It's real handy when you wantta find out how
to visit 'em sort of intimate like, and it kind of broadens yer mind.
It's a real pity you never learned to read, Shorty. There's nothing
like it fer getting valuable information. I read a lot and I always
remember anything that's worth while."
"I don't see how that's doin' us any good now," growled Shorty.
"Don't get hasty, Shorty, I'm comin' to it. You see these here Shaftons
have been on my mind fer some while back. I make it a point to know
about guys like that. I read the society columns and keep posted about
little details. It pays, Shorty. Now see! I happen to know that these
here Shaftons have several summer homes, one in the mountains, one at
the seashore, one up at an island out in the ocean, and a farm down in
Jersey, where they go at Christmas fer the holidays sometimes. Well,
just now I happen to know Mrs. Shafton--that's this guy's mother, is
down at the Jersey house all alone with the servants. Real handy fer
our purposes, ain't it? Not so far we can't get there by mornin' if we
half try, and the old man is off out West on a business trip."
"What you gonta do?" asked Shorty.
"Well, I haven't exactly got it all doped out yet, but I reckon our
business is with the old lady. Let's beat it as fast as we can to a
trolley and dope it out as we go. You see this here old woman is nuts
on her son, and she's lousy with money and don't care how she spends
it, so her baby boy is pleased. Now, I figger if we could come off with
five thousand apiece, you'n I we'd be doin' a good night's work and no
mistake. Whaddayou say?"
"Sure thing," grumped Shorty unbelievingly.
"You see," continued Link, "We're in bad, this guy escaping and all,
and like as not Pat swiping all the boodle and layin' the blame onto
us. You can't tell what might happen with Pat an' Sam, the dirty
devils. They might even let it come to a trial and testify against us.
Sam has it in fer me an' you this long time, 'count of that last pretty
little safe blow-out that didn't materialize. See?"
Shorty growled gloomily.
"Now on the other hand if we can step in before it is too late, or
before the news of his havin' escaped gets to his fond parents, and get
in our little work, we might at least make expenses out of it and beat
it out of the country fer a while. I been thinkin' of South America fer
my health fer some time past. How 'bout you?"
"Suits me. But how you gonta work it?"
"Well, you see I know a little bit about wimmen. An' I seen this woman
oncet. If she was one of these here newfangled political kind you
couldn't do nothin' with her, she'd be onta you in no time an' have you
up before the supreme court 'fore she goddone, but this here woman is
one o' them old fashioned, useless kind that's afraid of everything and
cries easy, and gets scairt at her shadder. I seen her on the board
walk once with her husband, took notice to her, thought I might need it
sometime. She has gray hair but she ain't never growed up. She was
ridin' in a wheeled chair, an' him walkin' beside her an' a man behind
pushin' her, an' a maid comin' along with a fur coat. She never done a
thing fer herself, not even think, an' that's the kind you can put
anything over on from a teaparty to a blizzard without her suspectin' a
thing. Shorty, I'm gonta make up to Mrs. Shafton an' see what I can get
out of her. But we gotta get a trolley line down to Unity an' catch
that evenin' train. See?"
About half-past ten that night, with the moon at full sail, Shorty and
Link, keeping the shady side of the street, slunk into a little
obscure, and as yet unsuppressed saloon in a back street in a dirty
little manufacturing city not many miles from Unity. Just off the side
entrance was a back hall in which lurked a dark smelly little telephone
booth under a staircase, too far removed from the noisy crowd that
frequented the place to be heard. Here Link took instant refuge with
Shorty bulking largely in front of the door, smoking a thin black
twisted cigar, and looking anything but happy. He had figured greatly
on getting his share of a million, and now at a single shot he had let
it go through his fingers. There were reasons why he needed that part
of a million at once. Link had all sorts of nerve. He called up the
Shafton home in New Jersey and jollied the maid, calling her girlie,
and saying he was in the employ of young Laurie Shafton and had a
special private message from the young man to his mother. It was not
long before a peevish elderly voice in his ear said:
"Well? Mrs. Shafton at the phone."
And Link sailed in:
"Mrs. Shafton, I got a message from your son, a very private message.
He said, would you please send your maid out of the room first before I
told you?"
She seemed annoyed and hesitant at this, but finally complied:
"Now, Mrs. Shafton, you don't need to get worried at what I'm tellin'
you. Your son ain't dead, nor nothing like that you know, but he's just
met with a little accident. No, now, wait a minute till I tell you. You
don't need to get excited ner nothing. If you just keep calm an' do as
I tell you it'll all come out right in the end--"
He could tell by her voice that she was much excited and that so far
his scheme was working well. If he could only pull the rest off! He
winked one eye jauntily at Shorty who was standing wide-mouthed,
bulging-eyed listening, and went on:
"No, he didn't have no collision, ma'am, he just got kidnapped you see.
And not wanting to get found out, natchelly the kidnappers give him a
little dope to keep his mouth shut fer a while. What's that? Who'm I?
Well, now, Mrs. Shafton, that's tellin,' ain't it? I wouldn't want to
go so far as that 'thout I was sure of your cooperation. What's that?
You'll reward me? Oh, thanks, that's what I was figgering about. You
see I'm in rather of a hole myself. That's what. You see, much against
my will I was one of the kidnappers myself ma'am. Yes ma'am, much
against my will! You see I'm a farmer's son myself, good an' honest and
respectable. Never had nothin' to do with such doin's in my life, my
word of honor, lady. But I come to town just to look around an' have a
bit of fun an' I got in with a bad lot, an' they pract'cally
_compelled_ me to assist 'em in this here kidnappin.' Oh, I didn't
do nothin', jest helped to carry him--Oh, ma'am, it ain't that bad.
He's still livin' an' he'll be awwright if you just he'p me to get him
away 'thout their knowin'. Yes ma'am. I'm honest. I'm offerin' to help
you. You see, when I see him layin' there on the bed--Oh, yes, he's on
a bed, I ain't sayin' how comfortable it is, but it's a bed, an' he
ain't sufferin' now,--but of course if they don't get what they want
they may put him to the torture jest to get more outta you all--No,
ma'am don't scream that way ur I'll have to hang up. This is on the
q.t. you know. What? You don't understand? Why, I was sayin' you
mustn't let a soul know what's happened. Not a _soul._ If it
should get out an' his kidnappers should find it out they'd kill him
easy as a fly an' no mistake. You gotta go slow on this. Yes, lady,
they're desperate characters, _I'm sayin' it!_ an' the sooner you
get your son outta their han's the better fer his future, lady, fer
even if he should escape after they'd been found out they'd probably
lame him fer life or put out his eyes or some little old thing like
that, so you see, lady, you gotta talk low an' take care you don't let
on to no one. If you should turn yella it ud be all up with little
Laurie an' no mistake, so keep yer mouth shet an' do as I tell ye, and
I'll help ye out. Yes, as I was sayin' when I seen little Laurie layin'
there so still an' white, my conscience--There, there, lady, don't you
take on--as I was sayin' my conscience troubled me, an' I says, I'm
agonta get this fella free! So I figgered out a way. You see lady,
there's two of us, me'n another feller set to watch 'im, an' feed him
dope if he tries to wake up, an' when I get feelin' worried about it I
says to the other fella I was agonta tell his folks, an' he says he'll
shoot me, but I keeps on tellin' him how sinful 'twas to make a poor
mother suffer--I gotta mother myself ma'am! Yes ma'am a good old
mother, an' she taught me to be honest, so I says to thother fella, I
says what'll you take an' git out, an' he says ten thousand dollars,
an' I says, awwright, I'll get it fer ya, an' so now lady, 'f I was you
I'd pay it right down quick 'fore he changes his mind. Cause the other
fellas they was goin' to ast a million, an' kill 'im if you didn't fall
fer it right to oncet. No ma'am I don't want nothin' fer myself. I just
want to go back to the old farm with a clean conscience. What? Oh, yes,
I want the money right away, that is before mornin'. If we can't get
him out before mornin' it ain't no use, fer the other fellas is comin'
back an' move him an' we can't do nothin'? What? Where is he? I
couldn't' really say, lady, it wouldn't be allowed, an' my mate he's
outside the telephone booth with a loaded revolver holdin' it up to my
head, and he's listenin' an' ef I give anythin' away he'd shoot me on
the spot. So where would your nice lookin' son be then? Mrs. Shafton
hadn't you better--? That's right lady, I knew you'd thank me, an' yes,
now I'll tell you what to do. First place, how much money ya got in the
house? No, that's not 'nough. That wouldn't do a mite of good, it
wouldn't be a drop in the bucket. Ain't ya got any bonds, ur jewels or
papers? Yes, that's the talk! Now yer shoutin'--Yes, lady, that would
do. No,--not that. You gotta have something that he can't get caught
with. I know you're loosin' a lot lady, but you got lots left, and
what's money an' jewels compared to your only son, ma'am? Why, think
how he used to look when he wore little white dresses an' used to come
to have his head kissed when he fell down! Wasn't he sweet, lady, and
he had a pair of little blue shoes didn't he? I thought so. Say, lady,
you'r the right sort! I knowed you must be to be a mother of such a
handsome son. Now, lady, could you hustle those things together you
spoke of an' any more you may happen to come on, and just put 'em in a
little box or basket, and tie a string on 'em an' let 'em down outta
yer winda? It's all I'll ask. Let 'em down outta yer winda. Then you
turn out the lights and turn 'em on again three times real quick, out
an' in, an' that'll be the signal. An' after ten minutes you look out
yer front winda an' off as fur as ye can see an' I'll flash a signal
light to ya jest to let ya know it's all right. An' I'll promise you on
my word of honor that you'll hear your own son's voice over the
telephone good an' early tomorrow mornin' an' no mistake. But lady, ye
mustn't turn yella an' holler ner nothin or we'll fling yer jewels an'
paper back in yer yard an' let yer son die. We ain't goin' to run no
chances ye know. You ain't got no dogs, have ye? And which side is yer
room on? The front? Yes, an' which is the easiest way to get to the
house without comin' near the servants' quarters? To the right? Yes, I
see. An' you'll play straight? All right lady. Your son's as good as
home now. I'll give you just one hour by the clock to get yer stuff
together, but mind ya, if ya weaken an' try to put the p'lice onto me,
I got a way to signal my pal, an' he'll have that boy o' yours shot
within five minutes after you call fer help? Understand? Oh, yes, I
know lady, you wouldn't do no such a thing, but my pal he made me say
that. He's a desperate man lady, an' there ain't no use toyin' with
him. All right. One hour. It's just quarter to 'leven. Good-bye!"
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