Gordon Craig | Page 7

terms with her; so you see you cannot lose. Sign
here."
"I had forgotten the woman. Is she necessary?"
"It will be better to have one, as they know down there young Henley
was lately married. Any good-looker, with an easy conscience, will do.
You could coach her on the train."

"But I don't know a young woman in town," I admitted soberly, "except
my landlady's daughter, and she 's the limit."
Vail and Neale both laughed.
"You 're slow, Craig," the former said good-humoredly. "I thought
better of you than that. However, you will have all day tomorrow. Get
on your new clothes, and look around. There 's plenty would jump at
the chance."
I shook my head.
"That's altogether out of my line," I averred. "I 'd rather go alone."
"Well, we 'll not war over that. You can leave your wife North if you
wish. I tell you what you do. Think it over, 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