Chapter Twenty-five
_Unhappy Freedom_
Once out in the street Caroline had cast one glance of terror over hershoulder at the towering facade of the house of John Mark, then shefled, as fast as her feet would carry her, straight across the streetand up the steps of the rooming house and frantically up the stairs, apanic behind her.
Presently she was tapping hurriedly and loudly on a door, while, withher head turned, she watched for the coming of some swift-avengingfigure from behind. John Mark had given her up, but it was impossiblefor John Mark to give up anything. When would he strike? That was theonly question.
Then the door opened. The very light that poured out into the dim hallwas like the reach of a friendly hand, and there was Ronicky Doonelaughing for pure joy--and there was Bill Gregg's haggard face, as if hesaw a ghost.
"I told you, Bill, and here she is!"
After that she forgot Ronicky Doone and the rest of the world exceptGregg, as he took her in his arms and asked over and over: "How did itcome about? How did it come about?"
And over and over she answered: "It was Ronicky, Bill. We owe everythingto him and Ruth Tolliver."
This brought from Ronicky a sudden question: "And what of her? What ofRuth Tolliver? She wouldn't come?"
It pricked the bubble of Caroline's happiness, that question. Staring atthe frowning face of Ronicky Doone her heart for a moment misgave her.How could she tell the truth? How could she admit her cowardice whichhad accepted Ruth's great sacrifice?
"No," she said at last, "Ruth stayed."
"Talk about that afterward, Ronicky," pleaded Bill Gregg. "I got about amillion things to say to Caroline."
"I'm going to talk now," said Ronicky gravely. "They's something queerabout the way Caroline said that. Will you let me ask you a few morequestions?"
"Won't you wait?" asked Caroline, in an agony of remorse and shame."Won't you wait till the morning?"
Ronicky Doone walked up and down the room for a moment. He had no wishto break in upon the long delayed happiness of these two. While he pacedhe heard Bill Gregg saying that they must start at once and put threethousand miles between them and that devil, John Mark; and he heardCaroline say that there was no longer anything to fear--the claws of thedevil had been trimmed, and he would not reach after them--he hadpromised. At that Ronicky whirled sharply on them again.
"What made Mark change his mind about you?" he asked. "He isn't the sortto change his mind without a pretty good reason. What bought him off?Nothing but a price would change him, I guess."
And she had to admit: "It was Ruth."
"She paid the price?" he asked harshly. "How, Caroline?"
"She promised to marry him, Ronicky."
The bitter truth was coming now, and she cringed as she spoke it. Thetall body of Ronicky Doone was trembling with excitement.
"She made that promise so that you could go free, Caroline?"
"No, no!" exclaimed Bill Gregg.
"It's true," said the girl. "We were about to leave together when JohnMark stopped us."
"Ruth was coming with you?" asked Ronicky.
"Yes."
"And when Mark stopped you she offered herself in exchange for yourfreedom?"
"Y-yes!"
Both she and Bill Gregg looked apprehensively at the dark face ofRonicky Doone, where a storm was gathering.
But he restrained his anger with a mighty effort. "She was going to cutaway from that life and start over--is that straight, Caroline?"
"Yes."
"Get the police, Ronicky," said Bill Gregg. "They sure can't hold nowoman agin' her will in this country."
"Don't you see that it is her will?" asked Ronicky Doone darkly. "Ain'tshe made a bargain? Don't you think she's ready and willing to live upto it? She sure is, son, and she'll go the limit to do what she's saidshe'll do. You stay here--I'll go out and tackle the job."
"Then I go, too," said Bill Gregg stoutly. "You been through enough forme. Here's where I go as far as you go. I'm ready when you're ready,Ronicky."
It was so just an offer that even Caroline dared not cry out against it,but she sat with her hands clasped close together, her eyes beggingRonicky to let the offer go. Ronicky Doone nodded slowly.
"I hoped you'd say that, Bill," he said. "But I'll tell you what: youstay here for a while, and I'll trot down and take a look around and tryto figure out what's to be done. Can't just walk up and rap at the frontdoor of the house, you know. And I can't go in the way I went before. Nodoubt about that. I got to step light. So let me go out and look around,will you, Bill? Then I'll come back and tell you what I've decided."
Once in the street Ronicky looked dubiously across at the oppositehouse. He realized that more than an hour had passed since Caroline hadleft John Mark's house. What had happened to Ruth in that hour? Thefront of the house was lighted in two or three windows, but those lightscould tell him nothing. From the inside of the house he could locateRuth's room again, but from the outside it was impossible for him to doit.
The whole house, of course, was thoroughly guarded against his attack,for attack they knew he would. The only question was from what angle hewould deliver his assault. In that case, of course, the correct thingwas to find the unexpected means. But how could he outguess a band oftrained criminals? They would have foreseen far greater subtleties thanany he could attempt. They would be so keen that the best way to takethem by surprise might be simply to step up to the house, ring the doorbell and enter, if the door were opened.
The idea intrigued him at once. They might be, and no doubt were,guarding every obscure cellar window, every skylight. To trick them wasimpossible, but it was always possible to bluff any man--even John Markand his followers.
Straight across the street marched Ronicky Doone and up the steps of theopposite house and rang the bell--not a timid ring, but two sharppressures, such as would announce a man in a hurry, a brisk man who didnot wish to be delayed.
He took only one precaution, pulling his hat down so that the blackshadow of the brim would fall like a robber's mask across the upper partof his face. Then he waited, as a man both hurried and certain, turninga little away from the door, at an angle which still more effectuallyconcealed him, while he tapped impatiently with one foot.
Presently the door opened, after he made certain that someone had lookedout at him from the side window. How much had they seen? How much hadthey guessed as to the identity of this night visitor? The softness ofthe opening of the door and the whisper of the wind, as it rushed intothe hall beyond, were like a hiss of threatening secrecy. And then, fromthe shadow of that meager opening a voice was saying: "Who's there?"
The very caution, however, reassured Ronicky Doone. Had they suspectedthat it was he they would either have kept the door definitely closed,or else they would have flung it open and boldly invited him in.
"I want to see Harry Morgan--quick!" he said and stepped close to thedoor.
At his bold approach the door was closed like the winking of an eye,until it was barely an inch ajar.
"Keep back!" came the warning through this small opening. "Keep clear,bo!"
"Damnation!" exclaimed Ronicky. "What's the idea? I want Harry, I tellyou."
"Harry ain't here."
"Just hand me that piece of paper over there, and I'll write out themessage," said Ronicky, pointing to the little table just beyond thedoorman. The latter turned with a growl, and the moment he was halfwayaround Ronicky Doone sprang in. His right arm fastened around the headof the unlucky warder and, passing down to his throat, crushed it in astrangle hold. His other hand, darting out in strong precision, caughtthe right arm of the warder at the wrist and jerked it back between hisshoulders. In an instant he was effectively gagged and bound by thosetwo movements, and Ronicky Doone, pausing for an instant to make sure ofhimself, heard footsteps in the hall above.
It was too late to do what he had hoped, yet he must take his prize outof the way. For that purpose he half carried, half dragged his v
ictimthrough the doorway and into the adjoining room. There he deposited himon the floor, as near death as life. Relaxing his hold on the man'sthroat, he whipped out his Colt and tucked the cold muzzle under thechin of the other.
"Now don't stir," he said; "don't whisper, don't move a muscle. Partner,I'm Ronicky Doone. Now talk quick. Where's Ruth Tolliver?"
"Upstairs."
"In her room?"
"Yes."
Ronicky started to rise, then, for there had been a slight fraction of asecond's pause before the victim answered, he changed his mind. "I oughtto smash your head open for that lie," he said at a random guess. "Tellme straight, now, where's Ruth Tolliver?"
"How can I tell, if she ain't in her room?"
"Look," said Ronicky Doone, "if anyone comes into the hall before you'vetold me where the girl is, you're dead, partner. That's straight, nowtalk."
"She's with Mark."
"And where's he?"
"He'd kill me if I tell."
"Not if I find him before he finds you. His killing days are ended!Where's Mark and the girl? Has he run off with her?"
"Yes."
"They're married?" asked Ronicky, feeling that it might be a wild-goosechase after all.
"I dunno."
"But where are they?"
"Heaven help me, then! Ill tell you."
He began to whisper swiftly, incoherently, his voice shaking almost tosilence, as he reached the heart of his narrative.