CHAPTER XVII AN ICY PLUNGE
Florence's opportunity for following her surprising double came soonerthan she expected; that very evening, in fact. She had quit work at theregular time, had donned hat and coat, had gone to the checking room toretrieve her Christmas bag. She was just leaving by a side door when,ahead of her in the throng, she caught a glimpse of that splendid crossfox which her double had insisted on her wearing the day before.
"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Here's where I solve a mystery."
Without a thought of what it might lead to, she followed the girl to asurface car and boarded it just behind her. At Grand Avenue the girl gotoff and Florence followed her again, boarded an eastbound car and, almostbefore she knew it, found herself following the girl through a blindingswirl of snow that swept in from the lake.
The street the girl had taken was covered with untrodden snow. It led tothe Municipal Pier, the great city pier that like some great blackpointing finger of destiny reached a full half mile out into the whiteice-bound lake.
"Where--where can she be going?" Florence asked herself.
"Boo! How cold!" she shivered.
The next moment she shivered again, but this time it was from fear.Having chanced to look about, she was startled to see a man all but uponher heels. And that man--no, there could be no mistake about it--that manwas the one of the night before, he of the burning black eyes.
Not knowing what else to do, the girl redoubled her speed. A half formedhope was in her mind, a hope that she might catch up with the other girl.Two were better than one, even if both were girls.
Hardly had this hope come when it vanished. In the shadows of thethree-story brick structure that formed the base of the pier, her doublesuddenly disappeared and left her, a lone girl on a wind-swept, desertedstreet that led to an empty pier. And here was a dark-faced, villainouslooking man at her heels.
She could see but one chance now; that she might find her way out uponthe pier and there, amid its labyrinth of board walks, freight rooms anddeserted lunch rooms, lose herself from her pursuer. She resolved to tryit. The next moment she dashed into the shadows of that great blackbuilding.
The pier, upon which she had placed hopes of escape, was used in summeras a recreation center. On warm days its board walks and its wind-sweptpavilions were thronged. Now it was still as a tomb.
Florence had once been here with the throng, but had taken little noticeof things then. The very silence of the place was confusing. She fanciedthat she heard her own heart beat. Which way should she turn? Above, twostories up, she remembered was a broad board walk a half mile long. Shemight race up the stairs to this; but after all it offered no place ofhiding. To her right was a hallway which led to a long narrow loadingplace for trucks. At this place, in summer, ships docked; here theirhundreds of tons of fruit, grain, flour, manufactured articles, and ahundred other commodities, were unloaded. She had a vague notion thatjust back of this loading place, beyond the fast closed doors, was alabyrinth of freight rooms.
"If only one of those doors were open," she breathed. "Perhaps one isunlocked. It's my best chance."
All this thinking consumed less than a moment of time. The next instantshe went racing over the cement floor. She was across it and out upon thelanding in a moment. This she knew was a perilous position. There was anight watchman about somewhere. Here she was in plain view. What wouldthe watchman do if he found her? Her pursuer was not far behind.
With a trembling hand, she gripped the latch of a door. It lifted, butthe door did not open.
"Locked," she whispered in a tone of despair.
"Try another," was her next thought. She was away like a shot.
Again the latch lifted; again the door refused to budge. She thought shesaw a dark figure pass from pillar to pillar in the place she had justleft. She could not see him, but she caught the thud-thud of his feet onthe cement platform.
Fighting her way against the wind, racing fast, breathing hard, shebattled onward. And all the time something within her was whispering:"It's no use, no use, no use." Yet, setting her teeth hard, she raced on.
The man was gaining, she was sure of that. Yes, now as she looked backshe saw him, only some fifty yards behind her.
This drove her to frantic effort. But to no avail. He continued to gain;a yard, two yards, five, ten, twenty.
"It's no use," she panted sobbingly.
And then--she could not believe her eyes--before her, to the right, wasan open door.
Like a flash she was inside. Grasping the door she attempted to shut it,but the snow blocked it.
One glance about her showed great dark bulks on every hand.
"Freight," she breathed, "piles of freight. Here--here is a chance yet."
The next instant she was tip-toeing her way softly in and out among theinnumerable piles of boxes, bags and crates that extended on and on intothe impenetrable darkness.
She ran along as softly as she could, yet each time as she paused shefancied that she caught the stealthy footsteps of that horrible man.
"What does he want? Is it the bag that he wants? Whose bag was it? Was ithis? If so, why did he let it get away from him?" These questions keptracing through her brain. Then came another question even moredisturbing. Perhaps this man had been unfortunate, had been sick or hadlost all his property. It might be that he had returned just in time tomiss the opportunity of redeeming this lost possession which containedsomething he prized, perhaps of great value.
"In that case he is more to be pitied than feared," she thought.
For an instant she contemplated going back to him; yet she dared not.
So, in the end, she continued tip-toeing about. Round a great pile ofsacks, filled with sugar or beans, past boxes of tin cans and in and outamong massive pieces of machinery, she wandered, all the time wonderingin a vague sort of way what was to be the end of it all.
The end to her stay in the store-room came with lightning-like rapidity.She had just tiptoed around a huge steel drum of some sort when all of asudden there burst upon her ear a deafening roar that shattered thestillness of the place.
The next instant a great black dog leaped at her.
He was not three feet from her when, with an agility that surprised her,she leaped from box top to box top until she found herself ten feet abovethe floor.
But the dog, who appeared to be an utterly savage beast, could climb too.She could hear him scrambling and scratching his way up, growling as hecame. Her head was in a whirl. What was to be done? Suddenly she realizedthat just before her, beyond the boxes, was a window. Dragging her bagafter her, she succeeded in reaching the window. She found it locked. Inher desperation she dropped her bag and began kicking at the sash. With asudden snap the fastenings gave way. She was caught so unawares that sheplunged straight out of the window.
With a bump that knocked all the wind from her lungs and most of hersenses from her head, she landed on something hard. Without being able tohelp herself, she rolled over once, then fell again. This time, to hersurprise and consternation, she did not bump; she splashed. She sank. Sherose. With all her nerves alert, she swam strongly in the stinging lakewater. She had fallen from the narrow pier ledge and had landed in thelake.
A white cake of ice loomed up before her. She swam to it and climbed uponit. What was to be done? The thermometer was near zero. She was soaked tothe skin, and far from anyone she knew.
"Got--got to get to shore somehow," she shivered. "I'll freeze here,sure. Freeze in no time."
She looked back at the place from which she had come. The window wasstill open. The dog had stopped barking. She wondered in a vague sort ofway what had become of her pursuer.
"And--and my bag," she chattered. "It--it's in there." She was comingalmost to hate that bag.
"Can't get up there anyway," was her final comment. It was true; betweenthe water line and the surface of the pier landing was a sheer wall ofcement, eight feet high and smooth as
glass.
Her gaze swept a broad circle. Off to her right was a solid mass of icewhich appeared to reach to shore.
"One swim and then I can walk to land," she shuddered.
Two steps forward, a sudden plunge, and again she was in the freezingwater.
Once on the ice she dashed away at top speed. It was a race, a race forher life. Already her clothing was freezing stiff.
Here she leaped a chasm of black water; there she tripped over a hole andfell flat; here dodged a stretch of honeycomb ice and raced across abroad level stretch.
Almost before she knew it she was alongside a row of steamships tied upin a channel close to shore. Then, to her surprise, she caught the gleamof a light in a cabin on the upper deck of the smallest boat tied there.
"There's a rope cable hanging over the side," she told herself. "I--Icould climb it. There must be someone up there, and--and a fire. A fire!Oh, a fire and warmth! I must do it, or I'll freeze.
"Of course they are strangers--a man, two men, maybe a family, but seafolks are kind people, I'm told. They know what it means to be wet andcold. I--I'll risk it."
The next moment, hand over hand, she was making her way up the cable.
Once on deck, she raced along the side until she came to a stair. Up thisshe sprang, then down the side again until she was at the door of theroom where the light still gleamed into the night.
Without a moment's hesitation she banged on the door.
"Who--who's there?" came in a distinctly feminine voice. Florence's heartgave a great throb of joy.
"It's me. Only me," she answered. "You don't know me, but let me in. Ifell in the lake. I--I'm free--freezing!"
At once the door flew open and she was dragged inside. Then the doorslammed shut.
For a fraction of a moment the two girls stood staring at one another,then as in one voice, they burst out:
"It's you!"
"It's you!"
The girl in the ship's cabin was none other than Florence's double.
There was no time for explaining. The girl began tugging away at herdouble's frozen garments. Ten minutes later, with her clothing on a linebehind the glowing stove, Florence sat wrapped in a blanket by the fire,sipping a cup of cocoa.
For a time she sat looking at the girl who was so marvelously likeherself in appearance. Then she said quietly:
"Would you mind telling me about yourself?"
"Not a bit. Guess I ought to. You did me a good turn. My name's Meg."
"I guessed that much."
"How?"
"That's what the man and the woman called me."
"The man and the woman?" For a moment the girl's face was puzzled. Then,"Oh yes, I----"
She paused for a moment as if about to tell something about the strangeman and woman who had told Florence that the train left at eleven-thirty.If this had been her intention she thought better of it, for presentlyshe said:
"My mother and father are dead. Since I was ten years old I've lived withmy uncle, mostly on ships."
"How--how thrilling!"
"Well, maybe, but you don't learn much on ships. There's an old saying:'You can't go to school if you live on a canal boat.' Ships are about asbad. I've got through eighth grade, though, and I want to go some more.That day I took your place and you wore my clothes I----"
"Who--who's that?" Florence had heard the movement of feet outside.
"No friend of mine; not this time of night. Must be yours."
"It might be the man!"
"What man? Your friend?"
"No. Not my friend; an awful man who wanted the bag."
"What bag?"
"A bag I bought at an auction. My--my Christmas surprise. There--there heis," she whispered tensely as there came a knock at the door.
"Come in," said Meg.
"Oh, don't!" Florence struggled to her feet. "Don't let him in!"
"Why not?" Meg had risen. In her hand was an affair resembling apoliceman's club, only it was made of iron--a heavy belaying pin. "Whynot?" she repeated. "If I don't fancy him, he'll let himself out fastenough." At the same time there came a rattle at the door knob. Florencesank back into her chair.