Another trolley-car,
dismally clanging its gong, paused a moment at some near-by corner, and
then passed noisily on. The way seemed clear, the street utterly
deserted, and, nerving myself to the effort, I crept cautiously
forward, until I crouched behind the brick coping. There was not a
disturbing sound, and I straightened up, essaying the first quick step
forth into the full gleam of the light. Like some confronting ghost,
scarcely more real than a phantom of imagination, I came face to face
with a woman.
She had turned swiftly into the narrow gateway leading through the
brick coping, hurrying silently as if pursued, her foot barely planted
upon the step when we met. I stopped, speechless, rigid, my
outstretched hand gripping the rail, but the woman drew hastily back,
her lips parted in a sudden sob of surprise, one hand flung out as if
in self-protection. It was instantaneous, yet before either could move
otherwise, or utter a word of explanation, a heavy footfall crunched
along the walk, and a burly police officer, his star gleaming ominously
in the dull light, rounded the corner a dozen feet away. Neither of us
stirred, staring into each other's bewildered faces, and before either
fully realized the situation, the strong, suspicious hand of the law
had gripped my shoulder.
Pages:
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38