River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1916-03-30
CHAPTER XVII.
On the Back Trail.

Innocent of either satisfaction or
any sort Of exultation over his escape
and the downfall of his enemies, Lam
yards mood was dark. The longer he
pondered the affair, the more mex
plicable it bulked to his understand
ing. He had never expected to defy
the Pack and get off lightly; but he
had anticipated no overt attempt to
discipline him pending proof of insin-
certify in his purpose to reform. A re-
tired competitor isn't to be feared.
Either Wertheimer hadn't believed
him or BannOn had rejected the report
presumably carried him by Lucy Shan
non-at all events, they hadn't waited
for Lanyard to demonstrate his will.
They hadn't bothered to declare war;
| with less warning than a rattlesnake
gives they had struck-out of the dark
at his back.
And sO-Lanyard swore grimly-
even so would he strike, now that it
was his turn. In this temper he ar
| rived, past one in the morning, under
the walls of the Omber place.
Now if it were violation Of the ten
cts Of his craft to revisit premises
once successfully entered, he showed
them at least the prudent Difference Of
selecting fresh point of attack-one
| chosen earlier, in the course of his
first circuit Of the walls. 1t hadn't es-
capped him then that this brick-and-
| plaster construction was in bad re-
| pair; he had marked down several
| places where the weather had eaten
| the outer coat Of plaster altogether
away. At the first Of these, midway
between the avenue and the junction
Of the side streets, he hesitated.
AS he had fOreseen, the mortar that
bound the wall together was crumbling.
It was no great task to work loose one
Of the exposed bricks, establishing a
foothold to position whence his other
hand, gloved, could seize the top Of the
wall, cast the ulster neatly over the
glass-toothed upper curbing and, thus
protected, swing himself bodily atop
| the thing.
But there, momentarily, he paused
| in doubt. In that singularly exposed
and cOmfortless position, poised ten
| feet above the 1ifelesS street on the
one hand and with the black mystery
OF the neglected park on the other, he
was seized and shaken by a sudden
and unpresaged revulsion Of feeling in
no way colored by any sort of alarm.
He was afraid Of himself-he, the
grim and deadly thing that walked by
night, the Lone Wolf, the creature Of
pillage and rapine, the scourged slave
Of that self which knew no law. And
for little longer he fingered there in
trembling, not knowing whether he
was to go back or go forward.
Then slowly that terror passed like
the lifting of a nightmare from the
brain Of a sleeper, and with a start,
with little SILVER and a sigh, Ian
yard went forward as one driven.
Dropping to the ground with an i'm
| pact muffled by the soft, damp turf,
he made himself one with the shadows
of the park, as silent, as intangible, as
fugitive as they, until presently he
came out beneath the stars, on the
open lawn running up to the wing that
housed the library.
From one Of the library windows a
shallow stone balcony jutted out eight
feet above the lawn-a height so insig-
nificant that, with one bound, grasping
it's stone balustrade, the adventurer
was upon it in brace Of seconds.
Nor did the windows-long French
windows, opening inWard-Offer any
considerable obstacle; penknife ex-
peditiously removed the old, dry putty
round one of the small, lozenge-shaped
panes, then dislodged the pane itself;
his hand through this opening readily
found and turned the latch; a cautious
pressure created an opening between
the two wings wide enough to permit
the passage Of his body, and-he stood
inside the library, refastening the
latch.
He had made no sound and, thanks
to thorough prior acquaintance with
the combination of the safe, he needed
no light. The screen of cinnabar af-
forded him all the protection he re-
uuired; and because he meant to &C
complish his purpose and be out of the
house with almost inconceivable swift
ness, he didn't even trouble to explore
the ousehold-beyond swift and
casual survey of the adjoining salons.
The clock in the reception hall
chirned the three-quarters as he en-
sconced himself between screen and
safe and grasped the combination
knob.
But he did not turn it. That mellow
music died out slowly and left him
unstirring in the silence and gloom, hIs
eyes staring wide into blackness at
nothing, his jaw set and rigid, his knit
ted forehead damp with sweat, BIZ