Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1911-04-11
CHAPTER VIII.
Too Late,

AT nine O'CLOCK tnaC nlgnC Things re-
NAMED about the same. The man
Hunter had sent to investigate the
neighborhood and the country just out
side of the town, came to the house
about eight, and reported nothing
discovered" Miss Letitia went to bed
early, and Margery took her upstairs.
Hunter called me by telephone from
town.
Can you take the nine-thirty up?''
| he asked. looked at my watch.
EYES, think so. Is there anything
Inew?"
''Not yet; there may be. Take a
cab at the station and come to the
corner of Mulberry Street and Park
Lane. You'd better dismiss your cab
there and wait for me-"
I sent word upstairs by Bella, who
was sitting in the kitchen, her heavy
face sodden with grief, and taking my
hat and raincoat-it was raining a
light spring drizzle-I hurried to the
station. In twenty-four minutes was
in the city, and perhaps twelve min
utes more saw me at the designated
corner, with my cab driving away and
the rain dropping off the rim of my
hat and splashing on my shoulders.
I found sort of refuge by standing
under the wooden arch of a gate, and
lit occurred to me that, for all my years
in the city, this particular neighbor-
hood was altogether strange to me.
Two blocks away, in any direction, |
would have been in familiar territory
again
Back of me a warehouse lifted six
or seven gloomy stories to the sky.
The gate stood in was evidently the
entrance to its yard, and In fact, some
uncomfortable movement of mine just
then struck the latch, and almost pre-
cipitated me backward by its sudden
opening. Beyond was yard full OF
shadowy wheels and packing cases;
the street lights did not penetrate
there, and with an uneasy feeling that
almost anything, in this none too
savory neighborhood, might be wait
ing there, struck match and looked
at my watch. 1t was twenty minutes
after ten. Once man turned the
corner and came toword me, his head
down, his long ulster Tapping around
his legs. Confident that it was Hunter
7 stepped out and touched him on the
arm. He wheeled instantly, and in the
light which shone on his face, saw
my error.
excuse me- mumbled, 81 mis-
took my man.
He went on again without speaking,
only pulling his soft hat down lower
over his face. looked after him until
he turned the next corner, and knew
I had not been mistaken; it was War
drop.
The next minute Hunter appeared,
from the same direction, and we walk
ed quickly together. told him who
the man just ahead had been, and he
nodded without surprise. But before
we turned the next corner he stopped.
"Did you ever hear of the White
Cat?' he asked. Little political
club?"
Never"
"I,m member of it, he went on
rapidly. Its run by the city ring. or
rather it runs itself. Be good fellow
while you're there, and keep your eyes
open. It's queer joint"
The corner we turned found us on
narrow, badly paved street. The
broken windows of the warehouse still
looked down on us, and across the
street was an ice factory, with two
deserted wagons standing along the
curb. AS well as could see for the
darkness lumber yard stretched be-
yond the warehouse. its piles OF boards
giving off in the rain the aromatic
odor Of fresh pine.
At a gate in the fence beyond the
warehouse Hunter stopped. 1t was an
ordinary wooden gate and it opene