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Besides, at the present juncture," he reflected, "he wouldn't bolt because he doesn't know how serious the position is." "Where are you going, colonel?" asked Crewe curiously. "I mean, when you get away from here?" Boundary's broad face creased with smiles. "What a foolish question to ask," he said. "Timbuctoo, Tangier, America, Buenos Ayres, Madrid, China "
She wondered what had brought him down to his present level, and why a man possessed of education, and who at one time, as she knew, had been an officer in a crack regiment, should have fallen so readily under Boundary's influence. She made a little face and went on with her packing. She did not want to think about Crewe for obvious reasons.
He would have gone farther, but the wall was at his back and he could only stand with open mouth staring at the visitor. It was Maisie White. She returned his gaze steadily. "I want to see Colonel Boundary," she said. "Certainly, certainly," said Pinto huskily. He shut the door and ushered her into the colonel's presence. Boundary's eyes narrowed as he saw the girl.
"You seem to forget, sir," said Stafford, "that Miss White is a wonderful mimic." "But why?" "She wants to clear her father. She told me that only a week ago. And then I've been making inquiries on my own. I found that she was seen coming out of the Albemarle mansion, the night that Jack made his last visit to Boundary's flat." Sir Stanley rose. "Wait," he said and left the room.
Half an hour later, Albemarle Place was blocked with fire engines and a dozen hoses were playing in vain upon the roaring furnace behind the gutted walls of Colonel Dan Boundary's residence. Stafford King was an early caller at Doughty Street, and Maisie knew, both by the unusual hour of the visit and by the gravity of the visitor, that something extraordinary had happened.
So they buried "Snow" Gregory, the unknown, and a jury of his fellow-countrymen returned a verdict of "Wilful murder against some person or persons unknown." And that was the end of a sordid tragedy, it seemed, until three months later there dawned upon Colonel Boundary's busy life a brand new and alarming factor. One morning there arrived at his palatial flat in Albemarle Place a letter.
The two men had not met since they had parted at the door of the North Lambeth Police Court, and there was in Colonel Boundary's smile something of forgiveness and gentle reproach. "Well, Mr. King," he said, "come in, come in, won't you?" He offered his hand to the other, but Stafford apparently did not see it. "No malice, I trust, Mr. King?" said the colonel genially. "You know my friend Mr.
It was Colonel Boundary's boast that he was in the act of lathering his face on the tenth floor of a Californian hotel when the earthquake began, and that he finished his shaving operations, took his bath and dressed himself before the earth had ceased to tremble. "I shall want you again, so you had better wait," he said to the driver and passed through the wooden gates toward Rose Lodge.
What was Solomon White's association with the Boundary gang, she could only guess. She knew it had been an important one, but her fears on his behalf had less to do with the action the police might take against him than with Boundary's sinister threat. She had other reasons for leaving the stage than she had told Stafford King.
Then with a start he seemed to awake as if from a bad dream, and without another word strode down the remaining stairs into the night. On the landing above, the strange being who called himself "Jack o' Judgment" stood outside the door of Boundary's flat. He had taken a key from his pocket and had it poised, when he heard the clatter of the other's feet.
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