The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-28

hind door-stoop, a policeman, not two yards from her, stood and twfrl- ed his night stick under the street
 lamp white the minutes sped and raced themselves away.
 When she could run, she ran until it seemed her lungs must burst, but it was slow progress at best, and al- ways the terror grew upon her. Had Danglar met the men yet who had footed the mi1lionairets safe? Had he already poined Skeeny in that old room behind Sh1uker's place? Had the Sparrow-- She would not let her mind frame that question in con- crete words. The Sparrow! His real name was Martin. Martin Finch Marty, for short. Times without number she had visited the sick and
 widowed n1other-whils the Spar row mad served a two-years' sentence for his first conviction in safe-break- ing. The Sparrow, from a girst-class chauffeur mechanic, it was true; but the. Sparrow was young, and she had never believed that he was inherent ly bad. Her opinions had been con- firmed when. some six months ago, on his release, listening both to her own pleadingS and to those of his mother, the Sparrow had sworn that he would stick to the straight and narrow And Hayden-Bond, the millionaire, referred to by a good many people as eccentric, had further prover his claims to eccentricity in the eyes of a good many people by giving a prison bird a chance to make an honest living, and had en- gagged the Sparrow as his chauffeur. It was a vile and an abominable thing that they were doing, even if they had not planned to culminate it with murder. What chance would the Sparrow have had!
 It had taken a long time. She did not know how long, as, at last. she stole unnoticed into a black and narrow driveway that led in, between two blocks of down-at-the-h heels ten ements, to a courtyard in the rear. Shluker had his junk shop here. Her lips pursed up as though defiant of a tfnge of perpleXity that had suddenly taken possession of her, She did not know Shluker, or anything about Shluker's place except it's locality; but surely ''the old room behind Sh1uker's'' was direction enough, and She had just emerged from the end of the driveway now. and now, startled. she turned her head quickly as she heard a brisk step turning in from the street behind her. But in the darkness she could see no one. and satisfied, therefore, that she in turn had not been seen, she moved swiftly to one side, and crouched down against the rear wall of one of the tenments- A long mo- ment, that seemed an eternity, pass ed, and then a mans form came out from the driveway, and started across the courtyard.
 She drew in her breath sharply curious minging of relief and a sud den panic fear upon her. It was not so dark in the courtyard as 1t had been in the driveway, and, unless she were strangely mistaken, that from out there was Danglar's. She watched him as he headed toward a small building that loomed up like black, irregular shadow across the courtyard, and which was Shlukers shop-watched him in a tense, fas- cinated way. She was in time, then -only-only somehow now her limbs seemed to have become weak and powerfeTl. It seemed suddenly as though she craved with all her soul the protecting shadows of the tenement, and that every impulse bade her cling there f1attened against the wall, until she could make her escape. She was afraid now; she shrank from the next step. It wasn't illogical. She. had set out with a purpose in view, and she had not been blind to the danger that she ran, but the prospective and mental encounter with danger did net hold the terror that the tangible con- crete and actual presence of that per il did-and that was Danglar there.
 She felt her face whiten, and she felt tae tremor of her. lips. tightly as they were drawn together. Yes, she was afraid, afraid in every fiber of her being, but there was a difference. wasn't there, between being afraid and being a coward? Her small, gloved hands clenched, her lips part ed slightly, She laughed a little now low, without mirth. Upon what she did or did not do, upon the margin between fear and cowardice as ap- piled to herself, there hung a mans life. Danglar was disappearing around the side of Shluker's shop. She moved out from, the wall, and swiftly, silently. crossed the court yard, gained the side of, the junk shop in turn, s1irted it, and halted, peering around her, as she reached the rear corner of the build ing. A door closed somewhere ahead of her; from above, upstairs, faint streaks of light showed through the interstices of a shuttered window.
 She crept forward now, hugging the rear wall, reached q door-the one. obviously, through which Danglar had disappeared. and which she had heard as it was closed - tried the door. found it unlocked, and, noise lessly, inch by inch, pushed it open; and a moment later, stepping over the threshold. she closed it softly behind her. A dull glow of light, emanating evidently from an open door above. discloser the upper portion of a stair way over on her left. but apart from that the place was in blackness, and save that she knew, of course, she was in the rear of Shluker's junk shop, she could form no idea of her surroundings. But she could, at last, hear. Voices, one of which she rec ognized as Danglar's. though she could not distinguish the words, reached her from upstairs
 Slowly with infinite care, she crossed to the stairs. and on hands
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