Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1922-01-07
AND HERE 1T CONTINUES
CHAPTER MI

TEN minutes later, the car left at the
l. curb half block away. Dave Hen
derson was crouched in the darkness at
the door of old Tooler's shed that opened
on the lane. There was grim set to
his lips. There seemed curious anal
ogy in all this-this tool even with
which he worked upon the door to force
It open. this chisel that he had taken
from the kit under the seat of En-
| manueIS car, as once before from
under the seat of another car he had
taken a chiSel--with one hundred thou
sand dollars as his object in view. He
had got the money then, and lost it,
and had nearly lost his life as well,
and now
He steeled himself, as the door
opened silently under his hand steeled
himself against the hope, which some
| how seemed TO be growing upon him.
that Millman might never have got here
after all steelCd himself against disap-
pointment where logic told him dis
appointment had no place at all, since
he was but fool to harbor any hope.
And yet-and yet there were thou
sand things, thousand unforeseen
contingencies which might have turned
the tables upon Millman The money
might still be here. And il it we're .
He was dead now-and free to use it |!
Free! His lips thinned into n straight
| line
The door closed noisclcssly behind
! him. The fashlight in his hand, also
| borrowed from Emmanucl's car. played
around the shed.
1t was the same old place. perhaps a
little more down at the heels, perhaps
| n "A
up with odds and ends than it had been
five years before, but there was no
ether change. And there was the door
of the pigeon cote above him, that he
could just reach from the ground
lie moved toward it now with a
swift, impulSive step, and snarled in
| sudden anger at himself as he found
his hand trembling with excitement
causing the tiashlight to throw jcrky,
wavering ray on the old pigeon cote
door. What was the use Of that? He
expected nothing, didn't he? The
pigcon-cote would be empty; he knew
that vel enough. And yet he was
playing the fool. He knew quite we'll
| himself thoroughly to expect nothing
else.
He reached up, opened the door and
felt inside. His hand encountered a
moldly litter of chaff and straw. He
! reached further in, with quick eager
ness, the full length of his arm. lie
remembered that he had pushed the
package into the corner and had COW
cred it with straw.
For Il minute, for two full minutes,
| his fingers, by the sense of touch, siftcd
through the chaff, first slowly. method
tcally. then with a sort of frantic
| n IN don
he had stopped to the floor, seized an
old box and, standing upon it. had
thrust head and shoulders into the old
| pigeon cote, while the flashlights ray
swept every crevice of the interior. and
he paved and turned up the chaff and
straw where even it lay but bare inch
deep and only one bereft of his senses
could expect it to conceal anything.
He withdrew himself from the open
ing, and closed the pigeon cote door
again. and stood down on the floor. He
laughed at himself in n low, bitter
mcrciless way. He had expected moth
ing. of course; he had expected only to
find what he had fOund-nothing He
convinced himself of it, hadn't he?
Well, then, what did it matter? His
hands. clenched, went suddenly above
his head.
81 paid five years for that" he
whispered. "Do you hear, Millman-
five years--five years! And I'll get you
-Millman I'll get you for this, Mill
man-are you listening?
lie put the box upon which he had
stood back in its place, went out of
the shed. closed the door behind him
and made his way back to the car.
He drove quickly now. himself driven
| ty the feverish, intolcrant passion that
had him in it's grip. lie was satisfied
| now. There were not any more doubts.
He knew. We'll, he would go to Nicolo
! Caprlano's, and thcn-his hands grip
| ped tirrccly on the steering wheel. lie
was dead IIa. ha Dave Henderson
was dcad--but Millman was still alive I!
1t was not far to CaprinnO's. He left
the car where Emmanuel had awaited
| him the night before. and gained the
back porch of NicOlo Capriano's house.
Tcresa's voice from the other side
of the closed door answered his knock.
"Who's there?" she asked.
He laughed low. half in facetious-
ness, half in grim humor. lie was in
a curious mood.
"Tha dead man." lie answered.
There was no light in the porch to-
night. She opened the door, and, as
he stepped inside. closed it behind him
again. lie could not see her in the
darkness - and somehow, suddenly,
quite unrcaSonably, he found the situa
ton awkward and his tongue, as 1t had
been the night before. awkward too.
Say" he blurted out, your fathers
got some clever head, all right !"
"IIas hep Her voice seemed