Gordon Craig | Page 7

and call me up by 'phone about three o'clock tomorrow--here's the number. If you decide on taking a woman along I know one who will answer, and will have her at the train."
"I am to leave then tomorrow night?"
"Yes, over the Eastern Illinois, at 8:10."
There was a moment's silence; then he rustled the paper on the table, and held out a fountain pen.
"Sign here."
I was not hypnotized, or unduly controlled; my mind seemed clear, but I yielded without a word and wrote my name at the bottom of the sheet. Vail blotted it carefully, folded the paper, and placed it in a drawer of the table. Then he handed me two bills.
"There is a thousand dollars there, Craig, and I will send you a typewritten memoranda of instructions, covering all points in the game. Where can I be sure of finding you at three o'clock tomorrow?"
"At 407 Green Street."
"All right; as soon as you read those instructions call me up by 'phone, and let me know what you have done regarding a woman, and ask any questions you may desire. That will be all now. Neale, you might show Craig the way out."
He put out his arm, and we shook hands, although he did not arise from the chair. It had all been accomplished so suddenly that I felt confused, uncertain as to what I had best do. Only the feel of those bills in my pocket seemed real, and made me fully aware that I was pledged to the service. Neale stepped into the hall, and I followed him. The entry way was in darkness, and the man went to the side door without switching on the light.
"Is this Mr. Vail's house?" I questioned, and he drew the latch.
"Yes, and, by the way, it will be as well for you to go out cautiously, and not be seen. We want to play safe, you know."
The door opened and closed, leaving me outside in the house shadow.
CHAPTER IV
AN ESCAPE FROM ARREST
It was then that the power of thought returned to me. However glibly those two conspirators might gild over the affair it nevertheless was a criminal matter to which I had blindly committed myself. Neale's parting words of warning alone made that clearly evident. They understood the risk of discovery, and now I also comprehended it with equal clearness. Fraud and forgery were contemplated, had been coolly planned, and it occurred to me that I was the one selected for sacrifice in case of discovery. Vail and Neale were probably safe enough, as it would be easy for them to deny any participation, but they had me bound fast. However, I had no thought of withdrawal from the contract, for, while I saw the danger involved, and realized the illegality, yet I failed utterly to perceive any real evil. I did not doubt the truth of all that had been told me, and was willing to assume the risk. I fingered the crisp bills in my pocket, and the words "ten thousand dollars" kept repeating themselves over and over. Of course I would do it; I should be a fool not to. It would be "easy money," and my earning it could harm no one.
Not a glimmer of light appeared from within the house I had just left, and I drew my cap down over my eyes, and stared about, listening. The hour could not be far from midnight, the night dark, the air heavy with mist. Glancing out between the houses I caught a glimpse of asphalt pavement glistening with moisture, and the distant electric light above the street intersection appeared blurred and yellow. Here, in the heart of the residential district, the last belated cab had already drifted by, leaving the silence profound, the loneliness complete. Two blocks away a trolley-car swept past, an odd, violet light playing along the wire, grotesque shadows showing briefly amid the enveloping folds of vapor. The discordant clang of the gong died away into the far distance. Crouching there in the shade of the wall I felt like a criminal. Then, angry at myself, I advanced slowly forward, yet keeping well under cover.
The light fell slanting across the stone steps in front, and revealed a narrow opening through the brick coping beyond. I must pass that way in reaching the street, but hesitated to go forward boldly. I could see only a few feet in any direction, as the fog was thickening, driving along the soaked pavement in dense gray clouds, already beginning to blot from view the houses opposite. 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