The Holbrook news., 1922-08-04
CHAPTER XII.
Two Men in a Locked Room.

TWO Men m Locked Room.
 Some sixth sense of safety-one that comes to many men who live in the outdoors on the untamed frontier warned Clay that all was not well. The machine had swung to the right and was facing from the wind instead of into it. Clay was not very well acquainted with New York, but he did know this was not the direction in which he wanted to go.
 Lindsay opened the door and swung out on the running board. We're go- in wrong. Stop the carl" he ordered.
 The man at the wheel did not turn. He speeded up.
 His fare wasted no time in remon- strances. A moment, and the chauf- feur threw on the brake sharply. His reason was a good one. The blue nose of revolver was jammed hard against his ribs. He had looked round once to find out what it was prodding him. That was enough to convince him he had better stop.
 Under the brake the back wheels skidded and brought up against the curb. Clay, hanging on by one hand, was flung hard to the sidewalk. The cab teetered. regained its equilibri- um, gathered impetus with snort, and leaped forward again.
 As the cattleman clambered to his feet he caught one full view of the chauffeur's triumphant, vindictive face. He had seen it before, at a reception especially arranged for him by Jer- ry Durand one memorable night. It belonged to the more talkative of the two gunmen he had surprised at the pretended poker game. He knew, too, without being told that this man and "Slim" Jim Collins were one and the same The memory of Annie's strick- en face carried this conviction home to him.
 The rain pelted down as he moved toward the brighter lighted street that intersected the one where he had been his eye at the corner. He went in, got police headquarters on the wire, and learned that a car answering the description of the one used by his ab- ductOr had been headed into Central park by officers and that the downtown exits were being watched.
 Presently he picked up another taxi. He hesitated whether to go to the address Annie had given him or to join the chase uptown. Reluctantly, he de- cided to visit the house.
 Clay paid his driver and looked at the house numbers as he moved up the street he wanted. Many of the residences were used to keep lodgers in. Others were employed for less reputable purposes.
 His overcoat buttoned to his neck, Clay walked without hesitation up the steps of the one numbered 243. He rang the bell and waited, his right hand in the pocket of his overcoat.
 The door opened cautiously a few inches and a pair of close-set eyes in a wrinkled face gimleted Clay.
 "Whadya want?"
 "The old man sent me with a mes- sage" answered the Arizonan prompt ly. "Got everything ready for the girl?"
 Say, who the h-l are youse?"
 "One of Sims friends. Listen, we got the kid-picked her up at a drug store."
 q don know watcher fairy tales about"
 Clay put his foot against the door to prevent it from being closed and drew his hand from the overcoat pock- ct. In the hand nestled a blue-nosed persuader.
 Unless the eyes peering into the night were bad barometers of their owners inner state, he was in panic of fear.
 Love O Gawd, d-don't shOot" he chattered. q ain't nobody but the caretaker."
 He backed slowly away, followed by Lindsay. The barrel of the thirty