A stifled cry rose to his lips. Something cold, like a hand of ice,
seemed to clutch at his heart. Those portieres, the wide, richly
carpeted corridor! It was the corridor of the night before! That room at
his side was the room where he had seen Hilton Travers, the chauffeur,
dead, lashed in a chair! He felt the sweat beads burst out anew upon his
forehead.
IT WAS THE CRIME CLUB!
CHAPTER XV
RETRIBUTION
His brain seemed to whirl, staggered as by some gigantic, ghastly
mockery. The Crime Club! HERE! He had thought to creep upon that
man--and he had run blindly into the very heart and centre of these hell
fiends' nest!
Silently he stood there, holding his breath as he listened now,
motionless as a statue, forcing his mind to THINK. He remembered that
last night his impression of the place had been that it was more like
some great private mansion than anything else. Well, he had been right,
it seemed! He could have laughed aloud--sardonically, hysterically. It
was not so strange now that there were no rooms on the right-hand side
of the corridor! And what could have suited their purpose better, what,
by its very location, its unimpeachable character, could be a more ideal
lair for them than this house! And how grimly simple it was now, the
explanation! In the five years that the false Henry LaSalle had been in
possession, they had cunningly remodelled the upper floor--that was all!
It was quite clear now why the man never entertained--why he had never
been caught or found or known to be in communication with his fellow
conspirators! It was no longer curious that one might watch the door of
the house for months at a stretch and go unrewarded for one's pains, as
the Tocsin had done, when access to the house by those who frequented it
was so easy through the garage on the side street--and from the garage,
if their work there was in keeping with their clever contrivances
within the house, by an underground connection into, say, the cellar or
basement!
Again Jimmie Dale checked that nervous, unnatural inclination to laugh
aloud.
Pages:
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600