The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1924-03-14
CHAPTER XVI
The Dead-Cart

Had you asked Colonel HOLES in
afterlife how he had spent the week
that followed Immediately upon his
escape from the house in Knight Ry-
der St, he could have supplied you
with only the vaguest and most in
complete OF accounts.
Without definite destination, or
even aim beyond that Of putting as
great d distance as possible between
himself and Knight Ryder St, HOLES
came by way of Carter Lane into
PauTs Yard. There he hung a mo-
ment hesitating-for a man may well
hesitate when all directions are as
one to him; then he struck eastward,
down Waiting St, finally plunging
into the labyrinth of narrow alleys to
the north Of it. Here he might have
wandered until broad daylight, but
that, lost in the heart Of that daedel,
he was drawn by sounds of revelry to
4 narrow door, from under which a
blade of light was stretched across
The cobbles of the street.
Two drunken roisterers, lurching
forth, paused a moment, surprised. at
me sight of him. arrested there. Then.
.rith drunken inconsequence they fell
upon him, took him each by an arm,
and dragged him. weakly resistius,
over the threshold of that unclean
den, amid shouts of insensate, hilari
Gus welcome from its inhabitants.
When presently the Coloneps eyes
had grown accustomed to the light,
he took stock of his surroundings. He
found himself in q motley gathering
- ffs-I,
! less evil-looldng women. In all there
may have been some thirty Of them
huddled there together in that COM
payatively restricted space.
Holes surveyed them with cold dis
gust, whilst they stared questioningly
back at him.
He yielded to the inevitable. He
had a few pieces in his pocket, and
he spent one Of these on burnt sack
before that wild company broke up.
and its members crept to their homes,
like rats to their burrows, in the pale
| light Of dawn.
Thereafter he hired bed from the
vintner, and slept until close upon
noon. Having broken his fast upon
a dish of salt herrings. he wandered
won through a succession Of narrow,
unclean alleys into the eastern end
of Cheapside, and stood there, aghast
/ to survey the change that the month
had wrought In that thorouRhfare,
usually the busiest in London, he
/ found emptiness and silence.
His nights were invariably spent at
the sign of the Flagon in that dis
NAL alley off Waiting St. into which
merest chance had led him in the first
| instance.
He turned up toward St. Paul's.
his steps echoing in the noontide
through the empty street as echo at
night the steps of some belated rev.
eler.
Albemarle, he learnt from a stray
sailor with whom he talked, was still
at the Cockpit True to his character,
Honest George Monk remained grimly
at his post unmoved by danger.
HOLES was tempted to seek him, but
the temptation was not very strong
upon him, and he withstood it. Such
Ia visit would but waste the time Of
a man who had no time to waste;
therefore, Albemarle was hardly likely
to give him a welcome.
The end came abruptly one night
the seventh that he had spent in that
lewd haunt of recklessness-he drank
more deeply even than his deep habit.
As a consequence when at the hosts
bidding he lurched out into the dark
alley the last of all those roisterers
to depart. his wits were dragged to
the point Of insensibilty.
Without apprehension. or care OF
the direction in which he was NOV