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Updated: June 26, 2025
"Feelin' sick, ain't you?" "Yes!" "Where d'you want to go?" he asked more feelingly. "Where d'you go?" parried Durkin. "Hoboken Ferry, for th' Lackawanna Number Eight!" "Then that'll do me," answered the other weakly. He leaned back in his high and rocking seat, grasping the back rail with his right hand.
But he had inwardly and adventurously resolved, if ever Fate should bring him and the Prince together under circumstances more untrammelled, he would not let pass a chance to balance up that ledger of princely venality. For here indeed was an adversary, Durkin very well knew, who was worthy of any man's steel.
"For instance," maintained the young Chicagoan, once more proffering his cigarette-case to Durkin, "for instance, take that big Mercedes touring-car with the canopy top, coming down through the crowd there. You'll agree, at first sight, that such things mean good-bye to the mounted knight, to chivalry, and all that romantic old horseman business." "I suppose so."
You said you had a Morris chair and now you pull this thing out to show us. Is that all you've got?" "Oh, no, I've got a lot of good things in there," answered Durkin cheerfully, peering into the gloomy recesses of the storeroom. "How about some pictures, or a pair of fine vases, or " "Have you another arm-chair?" asked Steve impatiently. "No, this is the only one.
"Yes; the Hôtel de Londres. And now I must leave you." He startled her by taking her hand and wringing it. She was still looking down at the packet as he withdrew, and the door closed behind him. She listened for a moment, and then turned the key in the lock. Durkin, stepping from his place of concealment, confronted her. They stood gazing at each other in blank astonishment.
"I'll give you a fiver," said Durkin thickly, "if you'll gi' me a lift!" He held the money in his hand, as he stumbled and panted to the wagon-step. That put an end to all argument. "Climb in, then quick!" cried the big driver, as he caught his passenger by a tattered coat sleeve and helped him up into the high-perched seat.
It was only a matter of seconds before MacNutt stepped once more from the cage into the billiard-room, yet as he did so he saw nothing but the still limp and relaxed form of Durkin, huddled back in his huge chair, emitting from between his half-parted lips an occasional weak groan of pain. A gloating and half-demoniacal chuckle broke from the newcomer's lips.
Then, as he quietly but busily speculated on the significance of this discovery, Durkin suddenly caught sight of a triple crescent carved on the arm of the chair against which he leaned. And as he made out that familiar device he knew that he was in Penfield's uptown house once used as his residence and later as his private clubrooms.
She watched him with a sense of detachment and aloofness, as if looking down on him from a great height, while he tore upon the manila envelope and gave vent to a little cry of satisfaction. They at last possessed the Penfield securities. Then she went over and replenished the waning flame in the alcohol lamp. "We've got to get away from here now," said Durkin quickly. "And the sooner the better!"
"Listen," she said, for in the lull of the wind they could hear the short, crisp spit of the spark as it spelt out its mysterious messages. Durkin caught her arm, and listened, intently, watching the little appearing and disappearing green spark, spelling off the words with narrowing eyes. "They're talking with the station up on the mainland. Do you hear what it is? Can't you make it out?"
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