The Street of the City (25 page)

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Authors: Grace Livingston Hill

BOOK: The Street of the City
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“What girl?” said the officer sharply.

“Why, she’s some rich girl that was takin’ us to a social club she started. And she brought us here to get another girl from this house.”

The officers exchanged a quick look.

“Did she go? The girl from this house?”

“No sir. She said she had another engagement, so we beat it. We figured we’d had enough.”

“I see. So you came across the back of the lot. But what became of the girl who brought you?”

“We don’t know,” said Spike gruffly. “We didn’t wait to see.”

“Then why did you think she might have your pass?”

“Well, we didn’t hear her car right away, so we figured she mighta chased around tryin’ to find us and mebbe picked it up,” said Kit eagerly, persuasively. “I’ve just gotta go to her house an’ see if she’s got it. I need it in the morning.”

“Who is this girl who brought you? What is her name?”

“Marietta Hollister. She lives across there on the ridge in that big house with a cupola on the top. Her father’s some big guy.”

“And you expect me to believe a story like that? That a daughter of Foster Hollister was taking a couple of young hoodlums like you to a dance? You must think I’m crazy. Come along with me. We’ll see about this.”

“Why, you see, it was a dance for young workin’ girls, an’ she hired us to go along and be pardners for the workin’ girls, see? She was payin’ us five bucks apiece for goin’ an’ havin’ a swell time besides good eats and some fun.”

“Oh, she was paying you for going, was she? And yet you two ran away without your pay! Another likely story.”

Then suddenly an interruption occurred. A window at the back of the house was cautiously raised, and a moment later a clear voice said, “Who is out there? What are you doing there?”

The officer who was holding Kit looked up calmly.

“It’s all right, Nurse Branner. This is Officer Rowley. Nothing the matter. Just a couple of kids hunting something they thought they lost here when they went through the lot awhile back. Don’t worry.”

“Oh! All right! Thank you!” And the window went softly down with none of the rest of the sleeping household the wiser.

So Spike and Kit went off in the custody of Officer Rowley and the little brick house beside the frozen river slept on quietly.

About two hours later two more stealthy figures arrived among the bushes and took up a stand alertly.

“Well, I guess we’ve got the coast clear tonight,” said Granniss. “I began to think we’d got every light against us, last night. But it’s much better to come at this hour. Practically nobody would be around now. Better go down and look at our digging and see if it’s been tampered with at all, hadn’t you? Make sure before the lumber truck arrives, and then what nobody doesn’t see won’t do any harm. Go easy on that flashlight, though. You know even a sound sleeper is waked up by a light moving around the wall.”

“I ain’t puttin’ any light on anybody’s wall,” growled Mike. “Whaddaya think I am?”

“Well, now don’t get touchy, Mike. This is no time to develop a temper, just when things are going our way.”

“Okay!” said Mike glumly, and strode out to the trench he had dug the night before. He stood for a moment turning his light this way and that, studying the ground carefully. Once or twice he stooped and put out a hand, feeling the roughness of the earth, shined his flashlight on something on the ground, and finally picked it up, a button that Spike had burst off when he struggled to get away from the second officer as they made their way to the hidden car by which the two officers traveled. Then Mike went back to the cover where Granniss was watching him.

“Well, how did you find it?” questioned Granniss sharply.

“There’s been somebody there,” said Mike. “In fact, several.”

“What do you mean?” asked Granniss, anxiety in his tone at once. “How could you tell?”

“I mean there’s been some people there,” said Mike calmly. After all it wasn’t his funeral, he told himself. “I know by the footprints. There’s been several. And the ground has been considerable tore up.”

“What kind of footprints? Men? Or boys.”

“Men,” said Mike. “It looked like at least three, mebbe four. And there was one girl with spike heels.”

“A girl!” said Granniss. “Do you suppose it’s the girl that’s living here in this house?”

“I couldn’t say,” said Mike dryly.

“What would a girl want with coming out there?”

“Mebbe heard us the other night. Mebbe got scared and came to see what was going on.”

“Mebbe hired by the government to spy on us,” said Granniss bitterly. “Might be, you know.”

“Aw, yer dreamin’!” said Mike disdainfully.

“Well, did you make any attempt to find out if our wires had been tampered with? Do you think they could have dug beyond where we went?”

“Could be,” said Mike speculatively. “Do you want I should tear it all up and find out?”

“Well, I don’t know as we’d have time before those lumbermen get here. Perhaps we better wait till they’ve gone.”

“Not me!” said Mike decidedly. “I gotta get some sleep. I got a job to carry on tamorrow.”

“You got a job to carry on tonight, man, have you forgotten? If you do it right it’s worth a heap more than any job you have tomorrow. Remember that!”

“Okay!” said Mike getting up with a sigh from the place he had flung himself down. He yawned. “If this has gotta be found out tonight here goes. I ain’t waiting on no lumber. I’ll have plenty of branches to fling in if we hear ’em comin’.”

So Mike went to work, carefully laying aside the stones and dirt and branches where they could be put back in a moment, and now and then shining a powerful flashlight on the hole. He was working fast. He didn’t care to have to do this over again after the men left.

And across the street on the side porch of one of the little new unfinished houses, the two officers who had returned from the police station parked themselves comfortably and invisibly where they could easily keep tabs on what went on. Somehow they knew that this job around the old brick house was not half finished yet.

But Mike was working away for dear life. He had seen strange turmoil in the dirt he had thrown in around the wires, and something dark and foreign was tangled firmly, as if a hidden foot were sticking up. Had somebody dug this whole trench up since last night? There was one place where it seemed the fingers of a small hand had been drawn along, burrowing in. Breathlessly he worked and at last was able to dislodge Marietta’s shoe heel from the wires where it was as firmly caught as if the fastening had been intentional. He brought it up and stood bent over, the flashlight turned full on it, and studied it.

“Great jumping goslings!” he howled. “Now how could that get into my nice clean ditch?”

Granniss came near.

“What is it, Mike, have you found something? Have they disturbed our wires?”

“Wal, I ain’t just sure yet,” said Mike loftily. “It’s something mighty strange. It’s the heel of some dame’s shoe. Down in by them wires, all tangled up in ’em as if somebody had stepped into ’em, or else was trying to pull ’em out. Some swell dame, too, ’cause they don’t make heels like that on cheap shoes.”

“Where is it? Let me see it,” said Granniss in alarm.

He took the absurd high heel and held it in his hand, sensing the soft leather with which it was covered, the art of its lines. Then he held it under his coat and turned his flashlight on it, studying every part of it carefully.

“It’s been wrenched off,” he announced in a guarded whisper. “Somebody tried to step over there and the ground gave way. She went in unintentionally. Nothing to fear from her, I guess.”

“I think you’re wrong,” said Mike abruptly. “There’s marks of hands down there. The whole place has been mauled over, mebbe by more than one pair of hands. I tell you I seen it, I know the signs.”

“Well, if that’s so there’s nothing for it but to get at the wires and see if they’ve been tampered with. Get a hustle on and be quick about it before the truck gets here.”

“But what’s so important about them wires? We could replace ’em, couldn’t we, if they’ve disturbed ’em?”

“Oh, it’s not the wires. They are only the beginning of the aerial that goes up a tree. It’s what they lead to. Man, there’s papers in with that transmitter in there that would put us all where we don’t want to be, and no mistake about it. Besides if they’ve tampered with those wires, we’ve got to destroy all evidence and then beat it with no time to lose. What I want you to do is find out if those wires are still uncut between this ditch and the wall of that kitchen. Find out if anybody has traced ’em to their source this evening. And do it mighty quick, too.”

“Okay,” said Mike in no hearty voice. “But I ain’t partial to workin’ in double quick time. Not after I’ve worked all day in the plant.”

The whispering ceased. Mike climbed down in the hole again and went to work, wishing he’d never taken over this job, no matter how big the pay promised. But at last he reached the place where he had ended his digging the night before and found the wires still undisturbed as they came out of the solid ground about a foot from the brick wall of the kitchen. So he laboriously climbed out and went back to the big man who was seated on the tool chest.

“Well, they’re all okay. Just look as if they’d been pulled a bit, kind of taut, that’s all. I guess they didn’t think it was worthwhile going no further. Or mebbe they got tired and decided to come back another night.”

“Well, that looks bad,” said Granniss. “I guess we better arrange somehow to make a grab right away and get out of this for good. If those wires are still there as you say then that’s a perfect guide to the place where we expect to break through the bricks, and since someone has tried to get down there tonight, they must have discovered the wires. Lost a heel doing it. That would be enough to make a thoughtful person suspicious. Say, Mike, you don’t think you could go on and break through tonight? It can’t be much farther, and in case we can locate the loose brick we might be able to do the whole job tonight and get away. I don’t like this outlook. It means somebody is suspicious, and once somebody gets suspicious, it’s first come, first win. Mike, we gotta get that stuff tonight!”

Mike dropped down on the hard ground wearily and shook his head.

“No way,” he said shakily. “Whaddaya think I am? A machine? You’d better get some other man if you want the world moved in a night.”

“What’s the matter with you, Mike? Getting cold feet with the goal just in sight? I didn’t think you’d poop out right at the end and lose all that dough.”

“Lose it?” said Mike excitedly, raising his voice above the stipulated whisper. “Who said I’d lose it? If that’s the kind of a guy you are, I can quit right now and make more money snitchin’ on you than I can diggin’ solid ice caves an’ breakin’ into honest people’s houses while they’re sleepin’!”

“Look here, Mike! If you’re a stinking yellow sucker like that I could put you in the jug in no time for digging this trench into honest people’s houses and taking part in an act of treason to your country, and how much of a chance do you suppose you would stand, your word against mine? I’m a respectable businessman, well dressed and educated, and you’re a poor laboring man. So get down off that high horse and get to work. See what you can accomplish before those lumber fellows get here. Remember, you don’t know what evidence I could bring against you when I get my hands on those papers.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” muttered Mike in a low undertone, but he went slowly back to the trench and lowered himself out of the other man’s sight. He was getting angry clear through, and thinking out a plot whereby he could get Granniss into real trouble with the government.

Then suddenly they heard the lumber truck coming, and Granniss arose in a panic and began to kick branches and stones into the trench.

“We better take a couple of those shortest boards,” he said, “and lower them into the hole, and then cover them up. We can’t have our men falling in there and getting tangled up in this jam. Get outta there, Mike, and help me move a couple of boards, quick, and shovel some of that snow back over them.”

Mike was glad enough to get out of the hole. He had reached the place where nothing short of a good strong blow or two with the pickax would get to the brick wall, and he was scared to try it on a calm, clear night like this. He had in mind the voice of the quiet, elderly woman who had opened the door and looked him down the night he first came here. He had a feeling that she was capable of doing almost anything, certainly calling for the police. He was sure there wasn’t any telephone yet, but there was no telling how soon one would be put in with a woman like that nurse on the job.

Halfheartedly he helped lift two boards and sprinkle some rubble over them, piled a couple of branches and some snow atop, and went out to the road to meet the truck.

The truck men knew their job. They carried their lumber swiftly and silently and put it in place, received their pay, and went their way, as the moon slipped over the rim of the horizon and left the world in darkness.

The two men stood for a moment discouraged, looking at one another, and then by common consent stepped over to the trench.

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