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Updated: May 2, 2025
The hammering, much more distinct now, heavy, thudding blows, came from a room in the front the connection between the cellar and the house, as shown on the Tocsin's plan, was through another trapdoor in the floor of the kitchen. Jimmie Dale's flashlight played on a short, ladderlike stairway, and in an instant he was climbing upward.
On the other hand well, on the other hand, if the Wolf had proved the early bird, then, perhaps, he and the Wolf would have, in another place and time to-night, a more personal reckoning than was anticipated in the Tocsin's plan! His eyes picked up snatches of her note, as they skimmed it swiftly again.
The Tocsin had always been a powerful agent; Judge Pike had increased its strength with a staff which was thoroughly efficient, alert, and always able to strike centre with the paper's readers; and in town and country it had absorbed the circulation of the other local journals, which resisted feebly at times, but in the matter of the Cory murder had not dared to do anything except follow the Tocsin's lead.
It was so obvious now, so glaringly obvious, that the Crime Club could have been nowhere else; so obvious, with every word of the Tocsin's story pointing it out like a signpost and he had not seen it! And then suddenly every muscle grew strained and rigid. He listened while he strained his eyes through the darkness.
"I'll read the rest of it for you," said Norbert, his heavy face lighting up with cruelty. "Let's see where were you? Oh yes 'point with pride'? 'Our citizens may point with pride to ..." Let us not linger to observe the unmanly behavior of an aged man and his grandson left alone at the breakfast-table by a defenceless woman. The Tocsin's right-about-face undermined others besides Mrs. Mr.
Yon drum-roll calls it to parade the soldier's armèd throng?" "No, brother, no! no morning-beam is yonder crimson glare! Yon deep bell tolls no matin 'tis the tocsin's hurried blare! Yon sullen drum-roll mutters out no summons to parade: To fight the flame it summons us the valiant Fire-Brigade!"
The Tocsin's hand slipped away from his arm. Jimmie Dale's set face relaxed as he read the underground Morse, and he replaced his revolver slowly in his pocket. "The Magpie!" said Jimmie Dale, in an undertone. "What's he want?" "I don't know," she answered, in a whisper. "He never came here before. There's a back way out, Jimmie, if you " "No," he said quickly.
And herein lay the secret of the old man's murder at the hands of the Wolf. The Tocsin's note had not failed to lay stress on this. No one probably, through a career of half a score of years, knew more about the Wolf and the Wolf's doings than did the Spider.
"There's one on the same subject." Mrs. Flitcroft, her theory of the Tocsin's sarcasm somewhat shaken, turned the page. "We Confess a Mistake" was the rubric above the leader, and she uttered a cry of triumph, for she thought the mistake was what she had just been reading, and that the editorial would apologize for the incomprehensible journalistic error upon the first page.
We'll BURN de skunk out dat's wot. An' de bulls can stand alongside an' watch, if dey likes but he's our meat." Jimmie Dale did not dare to look at the Tocsin's face. Mechanically he refilled the magazine of his automatic and lay there, waiting. The roar from the street grew louder.
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